TP1NF 
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OF  THE 


Romance 
Seminar 


B99n*f 


i 
i 


LOUIS  PASTEUR 


Ten  Frenchmen  of  the 
Nineteenth  Century 


BY 

F.  M.  WARREN,  Ph.D.,  L.H.D. 

PROFESSOR  OF  MODERN  LANGUAGES  IN 
YALE  UNIVERSITY 

Author  of 

"A   Primer  of  French  Literature,"    "A  History  of  the 
Novel  previous  to  the  Seventeenth  Century,"  etc. 


dlir  Ctjautauqua  }-)rrss 

CHAUTAUQUA,   N.   Y. 
MCM1V 


COPYRIGHT,  1904, 

BY 

THE  POPULAR  EDUCATION  PUBLISHING 
COMPANY 


81)r  lakrattir 

R.   R.   DONNELLEY   ii   SONS   COMPANY 
CHICAGO 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    INTRODUCTION  i 
II.    GUIZOT  AND  THE  CAUSE  OF  CONSTITUTIONAL 

MONARCHY       -  16 

III.  FOURIER  AND  SOCIALISM    -  -       43 

IV.  THIERS    AND    THE    GROWTH    OF    REPUBLICAN 

PRINCIPLES      -  70 

V.    GAMBETTA  AND  THE  THIRD  REPUBLIC  -  -       96 

VI.    VICTOR  HUGO     -  117 

VII.    BALZAC  AND  REALISM  IN  LITERATURE  -  -     147 

VIII.    ZOLA  176 

IX.    RENAN  AND  BIBLICAL  CRITICISM  -     202 

X.    PASTEUR  AND  THE  GERM  THEORY    -  229 

XI.    DE  LESSEPS  AND  INTER-OCEANIC  CANALS  -     249 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Louis  PASTEUR     -  Frontispiece 

FRANCOIS  PIERRE  GUILLAUME  GUIZOT    -                      -  16 

FRANCOIS  MARIE  CHARLES  FOURIER  43 

Louis  ADOLPHE  THIERS      -                                             -  70 

LEON  MICHEL  GAMBETTA  96 

VICTOR  MARIE  HUGO  117 

HONORE  DE  BALZAC       -  147 

EMILE  EDOUARD  CHARLES  ANTOINE  ZOLA  176 

JOSEPH  ERNEST  RENAN  202 

FERDINAND  MARIE  DE  LESSEPS    -  249 


TEN    FRENCHMEN   OF    THE 
NINETEENTH    CENTURY 


CHAPTER   I 

INTRODUCTION 

The  achievements  of  the  nineteenth  century  were  the 
carrying  out  of  the  ideas  of  the  eighteenth.  Before  the 
French  Revolution  men  theorized;  after  it  they  employed 
themselves  in  turning  the  theories  into  facts.  Science 
left  the  study  for  the  shop;  steam  and  electricity  were 
put  to  practical  uses;  chemistry  became  a  handmaid  to 
industry;  while  physiology  created  medicine  anew.  Like- 
wise in  public  affairs.  The  application  of  the  social  views 
of  philosophers  and  essayists  transformed  governments, 
changed  constitutions,  created  states. 

THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION  AND  FRANCE 
In  no  country  of  Christendom  were  these  results  so 
evident  as  in  France.  By  the  temperament  of  its  people 
France  is  subject  to  violent  changes.  Other  nations  yield 
to  the  invasion  of  new  ideas  gradually,  peacefully.  In 
France  devotion  to  tradition  and  custom  is  so  strong  in  all 
matters  of  private  or  public  import  that  the  forms  of  the 
past  continue  to  stand  after  their  content  is  exhausted. 
They  must  be  broken  by  the  impact  of  other  forms  of  new 
and  vigorous  content.  Hence  revolutions  in  politics  and 


2  Ten  Frenchmen 

literature,  violent  antagonisms,  strifes  between  the  living 
present  and  the  dead  past.  The  French  Revolution  is  an 
instance  of  the  way  changes  in  politics  are  made.  By 
their  attacks  on  religious  and  civil  authority,  which  went 
hand  in  hand  in  old  France,  Voltaire  and  his  allies 
destroyed  respect  for  creed  and  statute.  Their  influence 
was  wholly  towards  pulling  down.  With  his  dreams  of 
the  primitive  happiness  of  man,  a  golden  age  which 
civilization  had  corroded  and  tarnished,  Rousseau  showed 
how  justice  and  truth  would  be  found  only  in  a  return 
to  nature  and  a  purely  democratic  state.  He  would 
destroy,  but  in  order  to  create  anew.  The  skepticism  of 
Voltaire  and  the  faith  of  Rousseau  met  in  the  French 
Revolution.  Faith  won,  as  always,  and  from  the  chaos 
of  the  Reign  of  Terror  a  new  France  emerged. 

THE   WORK   OF   NAPOLEON 

This  new  France  was  a  land  of  passion.  It  believed 
it  had  a  mission:  to  proclaim  liberty,  equality,  and  frater- 
nity to  all  mankind,  and  free  from  injustice  and  oppression 
the  peoples  of  the  world.  To  direct  this  enthusiasm  Provi- 
dence raised  up  a  leader.  Bonaparte  was  a  great  adminis- 
trator. Modern  times  have  not  seen  his  equal  in  this 
respect.  His  foreign  wars  may  not  have  been  an  unmixed 
blessing  to  Europe,  and  were  quite  certainly  an  evil  to 
France;  but  they  carried  abroad  the  principles  of  liberty, 
and  made  Germany  and  Italy  nations.  His  work  at  home, 
however,  was  beneficial.  It  fashioned  the  France  of  the 
present  day.  The  results  of  the  Revolution  were  accepted, 
and  incorporated  into  the  common  law  of  the  land.  Peas- 
ant proprietorship  was  sanctioned,  and  primogeniture 
abolished.  To  recompense  the  Church  for  the  loss  of  its 


Introduction  3 

revenues  appropriations  were  granted  direct  from  the 
public  treasury.  Public  improvements  were  planned,  set 
on  foot,  and  carried  out  in  many  instances.  The  internal 
administration  of  the  country  was  systematized,  and  con- 
centrated in  the  central  authority.  Art  and  science  were 
fostered.  Whatever  the  political  vicissitudes  which  have 
followed,  France  has  remained  in  all  essential  particulars 
the  France  of  the  Empire. 

THE    RESTORATION 

With  Napoleon  finally  at  St.  Helena,  Louis  XVIII  on 
the  throne,  and  the  emigrant  nobles  back  after  a  twenty 
years'  exile,  during  which  little  notion  of  the  great  changes 
at  home  had  entered  their  minds,  France  seemed  in  fair 
way  to  return  to  the  ideas  of  the  eighteenth  century.  The 
great  bulwark  against  this  ebb  in  the  social  tide  was  the 
peasant  proprietorship,  sanctioned  by  the  Napoleonic  Code. 
Country  and  city,  though  weary  of  war,  joined  in  success- 
ful resistance  to  a  political  reaction.  Fifteen  years  after 
Waterloo  the  Bourbons  fled,  never  to  return. 

But  the  Restoration  did  more  than  hold  the  ground 
gained  by  the  Revolution.  Its  era  of  peace  fostered  learn- 
ing and  literature.  Science  became  more  and  more  experi- 
mental. Literature,  which  had  been  antagonized  in  its 
development  by  the  pagan  ideals  of  the  Revolution,  re- 
newed its  connection  with  the  nature-worship  of  Rousseau, 
who  had  rejected  classical  models.  Its  votaries  were  di- 
vided into  two  camps.  One  party  became  deeply  religious. 
Turning  away  from  antiquity  it  found  new  and  Christian 
sources  of  inspiration  in  the  writings  and  art  of  the  Middle 
Ages.  Chateaubriand  headed  this  group,  and  many  of  its 
members  wrote  under  the  influence  of  English  and  Ger- 


4  Ten  Frenchmen 

man  romanticists.  In  politics  this  faction  was  conserva- 
tive, reactionary.  The  other  camp  held  the  liberals,  the 
advocates  of  democracy  and  equality  of  sex.  In  matters 
of  religion  it  sided  with  Voltaire,  though  its  leaders, 
Mme.  de  Stae'l,  and  later,  George  Sand,  were  the  especial 
disciples  of  Rousseau.  This  group  was  much  less  numer- 
ous than  the  other.  Perhaps  also  the  division  between 
the  two  is  more  apparent  than  real.  It  is  strongly  marked 
only  in  religious  belief  and  in  politics,  and  towards  1830 
both  factions  found  themselves  united  in  the  French 
Romantic  School.  This  school  included  poets  like  Hugo 
and  Lamartine,  and  historians  like  Thierry  and  Guizot. 
Beside  them  stood  the  romanticists  of  art,  Boulanger  and 
David  d'Angers. 

THE   REIGN    OF    LOUIS    PHILIPPE 

Liberalism  in  politics  triumphed  in  the  July  Revolution 
of  1830.  The  aristocracy  of  birth,  which  strenuously 
held  to  the  ways  of  old  France,  was  supplanted  by  the 
caste  of  bankers  and  merchants,  the  Third  Estate,  which 
had  made  the  French  Revolution,  and  was  now  demanding 
the  fruits  of  its  labors.  The  new  monarch,  Louis  Philippe, 
of  the  House  of  Orleans,  a  man  of  simple  and  democratic 
ways,  received  his  throne  at  the  hands  of  Parliament. 
Napoleon  had  recognized  the  democratic  principle.  His 
generals  had  risen  from  the  ranks  and  had  become  the 
dukes  and  princes  of  a  new  nobility.  The  year  1830, 
therefore,  in  many  ways  joined  on  to  1815.  A  signifi- 
cant sign  of  this  close  connection  was  the  substitution  of 
the  tri-colored  flag  of  the  Empire  for  the  royal  white 
banner  and  golden  lilies  of  the  Restoration.  But  the  July 
monarchy  was  in  favor  of  peace.  It  was  a  business  man's 


Introduction  5 

government.  The  only  war  it  was  called  upon  to  under- 
take was  one  of  territorial  aggrandizement,  by  which 
Algeria  was  added  to  the  possessions  of  France. 

Still  the  inevitable  evolution  of  the  principles  of  the 
French  Revolution — liberty,  equality,  fraternity — went  on 
under  this  rule  of  the  bourgeoisie.  The  constitution  of  the 
country  was  patterned  on  the  constitution  of  England. 
A  property  qualification  underlay  tenure  of  office  and  the 
suffrage.  In  the  eyes  of  the  masses  this  was  not  equal- 
ity. Democratic  ideas  flourished.  Socialism  found  advo- 
cates in  theory  and  practice.  The  government  did  not 
understand  how  to  trim  its  sails  to  ride  out  the  growing 
storm,  and  the  Revolution  of  1848,  supported  by  the 
mechanics  and  day  laborers,  drove  it  from  power. 

During  this  period  of  eighteen  years  many  men  of 
letters  had  played  at  politics.  Thiers  and  Guizot,  both 
historians  by  vocation,  had  in  turn  guided  the  destinies  of 
the  nation.  The  glory  of  the  Empire,  now  seen  in  retro- 
spect, had  thrown  its  suffering  into  the  shade.  The 
so-called  Napoleonic  legend  had  daily  been  gaining 
strength.  The  triumphal  recovery  of  the  remains  of  the 
emperor,  in  1840,  and  their  interment  at  the  Invalides 
had  aroused  an  enthusiasm  which  disturbed  the  nibnarchy 
and  cost  Thiers  his  office.  Guizot 's  failure  to  compre- 
hend the  times  and  their  demands  forced  the  crisis  of 
1848.  Other  writers  who  took  part  in  public  affairs,  as 
Lamartine  and  Hugo,  attained  no  more  lasting  success. 
As  republicans  they  survived  1848,  but  only  to  lose  place 
and  power  in  the  stormy  years  that  followed. 

Their  contributions  to  the  literature  of  their  country 
were,  however,  more  beneficial  and  more  lasting.  Around 
Hugo  the  second  generation  of  romanticists  had  gathered, 


6  Ten  Frenchmen 

Alfred  de  Musset,  Theophile  Gautier,  Sainte-Beuve.  In 
sympathy  with  them,  but  not  in  such  close  touch,  were  the 
other  great  writers  of  the  Romantic  School,  Alexandre 
Dumas  and  George  Sand.  Inspired  by  them  and  inspiring 
them  in  turn  were  the  artists  Horace  Vernet  and  Delacroix; 
the  musicians  Chopin,  Meyerbeer,  and  Rossini.  On  the 
other  hand,  opponents  of  romantic  views,  while  partly 
imbued  with  them,  included  the  first  and  the  best  of  the 
realists,  Stendhal  and  Balzac.  They  did  not  care  for  art, 
they  gave  little  heed  to  style.  Observation  directed  their 
pen,  not  imagination;  what  they  saw,  rather  than  what 
they  felt.  They  left  emotion  and  sentiment  to  the  roman- 
ticists. Skeptics  in  religion,  conceiving  life  to  be  a 
struggle  for  material  enjoyment,  in  which  the  strongest 
and  shrewdest  succeeds,  taking  their  model  from  Napo- 
leon, the  great  parvenu,  and  possessed  with  the  spirit  of 
the  exact  sciences,  they  substituted  in  their  works  descrip- 
tions for  emotions,  the  careful  narrative  of  physical  man 
and  his  surroundings  for  a  picture  of  the  human  soul,  and 
the  heroes  of  the  shop  and  professions  for  the  knights  of 
the  Middle  Ages  and  the  musketeers  of  Louis  XIII.  The 
Third  Estate  had  seized  the  political  power.  Why  should 
it  not  be  eulogized  in  more  lasting  annals?  Some  of  the 
realists  went  farther.  Eugene  Sue  laid  the  plots  of  his 
romances  in  the  resorts  of  the  revolutionists  of  1848. 

THE    SECOND    EMPIRE 

The  Republic  of  1848  proved  to  be  lacking  in  vitality. 
Its  leading  men  were  theorists  or  Jacobins,  and  France 
was  not.  yet  ready  for  representative  government  pure  and 
simple.  The  Republic  established  universal  suffrage,  and 
fell  at  once  into  the  hands  of  Louis  Napoleon,  whom  uni- 


Introduction  7 

versal  suffrage  first  elected  president,  then  president  for 
ten  years,  and  finally  emperor.  The  attempt  to  return 
to  the  political  ideas  of  1793  had  failed.  Public  opinion 
forced  on  the  country  a  despotism,  for  fear  of  a  lapse 
recurring  to  the  anarchy  of  the  Reign  of  Terror,  and 
socialistic  views  of  ownership. 

The  main  strength  of  Napoleon  III  was  derived  from 
the  Napoleonic  legend,  which  had  grown  until  it  had  quite 
crowded  out  all  other  political  sentiment.  But  he  pos- 
sessed also  a  keen  appreciation  of  the  desires  of  the  French 
people,  knew  foreign  countries,  was  inclined  towards 
idealism.  He  declared  at  once  for  peace  and  industry, 
and  in  public  affairs  leaned  towards  the  establishment  of 
a  constitutional  monarchy.  His  internal  administration 
was  excellent.  Important  works  of  improvement  were 
undertaken  in  the  larger  towns.  Paris  was  made  over, 
given  parks  and  public  buildings.  Universal  expositions 
in  1855  and  1867  fostered  national  industry  and  art. 
And  all  the  while  the  absolute  autocracy  of  the  earlier 
years  was  yielding  little  by  little  to  the  increasing  demand 
for  liberty  of  thought  and  action.  But  in  foreign  affairs 
his  rule  was  singularly  unfortunate.  Intent  on  making 
France  the  center  of  European  diplomacy,  and  on  cheaply 
purchasing  a  large  amount  of  military  glory,  Napoleon  III 
engaged  in  alliances  and  expeditions  more  and  more  unfor- 
tunate. The  Crimean  War,  in  which  he  opposed  Russia, 
the  natural  ally  of  France,  and  assisted  in  perpetuating 
the  power  of  the  Turk  in  Europe,  the  Italian  War  of 
1859,  which  ended  in  a  way  unsatisfactory  to  the  Italians, 
the  Roman  Catholics,  and  Europe  generally,  his  unfortu- 
nate attempt  to  found  a  Latin  state  in  Mexico  were  each 
recognized  at  the  time  or  later  to  have  constituted  a  series 


8  Ten  Frenchmen 

of  political  mistakes,  from  which  France  had  gained  noth- 
ing but  enmity  and  distrust.  The  final  blunder  of  the 
Franco-Prussian  War  proved  fatal  to  the  Empire. 

In  the  domain  of  ideas  the  Second  Empire  did  not 
show  the  robustness  of  either  the  Bourbon  or  the  Orlean- 
ist  monarchy.  Its  pretense  of  religion  and  morality  was 
regarded  in  many  quarters  as  a  sham,  a  cloak  to  cover 
irreligion  and  wrongdoing.  However  this  may  have  been, 
the  popular  philosophy  among  the  scientists  was  Comte's 
positivism,  which  formulated  agnosticism.  The  effect  of 
this  creed  on  literature  was  striking.  With  1848  romanti- 
cism had  ceased  to  rule,  and  the  best  of  realism  had 
departed.  Chateaubriand  had  died  in  that  year,  and 
Balzac  in  1850.  Lamartine  had  turned  hack-writer, 
De  Musset's  muse  was  silent.  George  Sand  had  retired 
to  the  country,  and  the  coup  d'etat  of  1851  had  driven 
Hugo  into  exile.  Yet  experimental  science  grew,  favor- 
ing mental  doubt  until  results  have  been  attained,  while 
criticism  and  research  occupied  the  greater  talents,  who 
looked  to  Germany  and  England  for  guidance.  These 
include  Renan,  the  historian;  Littre,  a  disciple  of  Comte, 
the  linguist  and  essayist;  and  Taine,  of  the  same  school, 
the  critic. 

Of  works  of  the  imagination  there  are  few,  apart  from 
Hugo's  novels  and  poetry;  for  realism  in  literature  had 
degenerated  into  a  bastard  naturalism.  Man  passed  more 
and  more  for  a  mere  animal,  an  animal  endowed  with  evil 
instincts  to  the  exclusion  of  the  good.  The  novelist  of 
the  day,  Flaubert,  is  a  chronicler  of  human  imbecility  and 
physical  decay.  Baudelaire  gave  these  ideas  expression 
in  verse,  while  a  new  school  of  poets,  the  Parnassians, 
were  devoting  their  energies  to  the  perfection  of  technique 


Introduction  9 

and  form.  The  drama,  in  its  representatives,  the  younger 
Dumas  and  Augier,  portrays  the  unwholesome  traits  of 
contemporaneous  manners  or  argues  for  reform  in  social 
conditions.  It  is  realistic,  like  Balzac. 

Art  also  left  the  domain  of  the  imagination  for  the 
field  of  observation.  Studies  of  nature,  landscapes, 
attained  unwonted  excellence  in  the  paintings  of  the  Bar- 
bizon  School.  The  Empire  also  had  its  eulogists,  who 
delineated  with  extreme  care  and  attention  to  detail  the 
battles  of  the  Grand  Army  and  the  military  experiences 
of  Napoleon  III.  Towards  the  end  of  the  period  a  revolt 
in  the  direction  of  naturalism  becomes  manifest.  More 
freedom,  a  broader  treatment,  a  rejection  of  conventional 
themes  and  color,  point  the  way  to  greater  originality  of 
thought  and  expression.  But  official  influence  was  ever 
on  the  side  of  conservatism  in  either  literature  or  art. 
Censorship  was  often  exercised. 

THE   THIRD   REPUBLIC 

The  battle  of  Sedan  brought  the  opposition  to  imperial- 
ism to  the  front,  and  the  republicans  of  Paris,  unrestrained 
by  the  presence  of  the  regular  army,  captive  or  besieged, 
proclaimed  the  Third  Republic.  The  numeral  is  signifi- 
cant. It  preserves  the  memory  of  the  French  Revolution 
and  the  Republic  of  1848.  There  is  no  question  but  that 
the  nation  as  a  whole  was  taken  by  surprise  by  this  action 
of  the  Parisians.  For  when,  after  the  war  and  the  Com- 
mune, deputies  were  elected  to  the  National  Assembly,  it 
was  found  that  the  republicans  were  in  a  minority.  But 
the  majority  was  made  up  of  such  antagonistic  factions — 
Bonapartists  from  the  north,  Bourbons  from  the  west,  and 
Orleanists  from  many  districts  controlled  by  the  bourgeoisie — 


io  Ten  Frenchmen 

that  no  agreement  among  them  was  possible,  and  the 
Republic  continued  by  sufferance.  For  nearly  twenty 
years  this  peculiar  state  of  affairs  lasted.  The  existence 
of  the  government  was  often  menaced.  It  often  seemed 
on  the  verge  of  destruction.  But  it  was  not  destroyed, 
and  since  1890  its  stability  has  not  been  seriously  doubted. 
From  a  strife  between  partisans  of  a  monarchy  or  empire 
and  partisans  of  representative  government,  the  political 
contest  within  the  country  has  passed  to  the  usual  struggle 
between  liberals  and  conservatives.  Religious  opinion 
forms  much  of  the  party  difference.  The  liberals,  who 
include  the  moderate  socialists,  are  on  the  whole  against 
Church  influence  in  public  affairs.  The  conservatives  are 
quite  generally  stanch  churchmen. 

The  Republic  has  shown  itself  fairly  competent  in  the 
management  of  internal  affairs.  The  centralized  system 
of  administration,  established  by  Napoleon,  remains  in 
full  force,  though  many  of  the  more  enlightened  citizens 
favor  greater  local  autonomy,  and  some  steps  have  been 
taken  toward  increasing  the  attractions  of  other  towns 
than  Paris.  This  is  especially  noticeable  in  the  matter  of 
education.  Shortly  before  the  fall  of  the  Second  Empire, 
the  minister  of  public  instruction,  Victor  Duruy,  the  his- 
torian, brought  forward  a  measure  for  the  extension  of 
common  schools  under  governmental  direction.  Primary 
education  had  been  almost  entirely  in  the  control  of  the 
Church.  The  Republic,  with  its  leanings  away  from 
clericalism,  succeeded  to  Duruy's  idea  and  pushed  it  for- 
ward until  the  youth  of  France  of  both  sexes  enjoy  prac- 
tically the  same  educational  privileges  that  are  enjoyed  in 
Germany.  Hand  in  hand  with  this  movement  has  gone 
the  development  and  improvement  of  the  more  advanced 


Introduction  1 1 

schools  of  learning.  Universities  in  the  provinces,  at 
Grenoble,  Montpellier,  Toulouse,  or  Lyons,  have  enlarged 
their  resources  quite  as  much  as  the  University  of  Paris. 
Scientific  privileges  formerly  concentrated  in  the  capital 
are  now  available  in  the  more  remote  districts  also. 

In  the  matter  of  public  works  the  present  government 
has  continued  the  plans  of  the  Empire.  The  buildings  in 
Paris  ruined  by  the  Commune  have  been  in  part  replaced, 
and  with  greater  magnificence.  Broad  avenues  have  taken 
the  place  of  city  alleys,  bridges  have  been  constructed, 
while  the  expositions  of  1878,  1889,  and  1900  have  fairly 
outdone  the  fairs  of  the  Second  Empire.  The  policy  of 
fostering  art  has  been  continued,  museums  have  been 
multiplied,  and  private  individuals  have  vied  with  the  state 
in  increasing  the  collections  open  to  the  public.  A  notable 
instance  is  the  gift  of  the  old  Conde  estate  at  Chantilly  by 
one  of  the  Orleanist  princes,  the  Due  d'Aumale,  to  the 
Institute  of  France.  No  previous  era  has  seen  so  much 
done  for  the  enlightenment  and  comfort  of  the  people. 
At  the  present  time  the  chief  obstacle  to  the  success  of 
the  existing  regime  in  France  is  the  burden  of  taxation 
which  its  military  budget  lays  upon  the  people.  Neither 
monarchy  nor  empire  had  to  contend  with  expenditures 
for  war  when  there  was  no  war. 

In  foreign  affairs  the  Republic  has  followed  the  vacil- 
lating policy  of  its  predecessor.  It  has  in  turn  estranged 
and  reconciled  Italy,  has  shown  its  sympathy  with  Spain, 
during  the  Spanish-American  War,  and  its  distrust  of 
England.  But  no  complications  have  ensued  because  of 
its  feelings — other  than  those  of  a  tariff  war  with  Italy. 
And  to  its  great  credit  can  be  placed  the  alliance  with 
Russia,  the  utility  of  which  had  appealed  to  Bonaparte, 


12  Ten  Frenchmen 

but  had  escaped  his  nephew,  Napoleon  III.  The  wars  it 
has  waged  have  been  small,  if  unfruitful,  prompted  by  the 
spirit  of  colonization.  Algeria  has  always  been  commer- 
cially unprofitable.  Now  Tunis  has  been  added  to  it 
under  the  guise  of  a  French  protectorate.  Expeditions 
to  the  eastern  seas  have  also  been  undertaken.  Tonquin 
was  wrested  from  China,  and  Madagascar  from  its  native 
rulers.  All  these  petty  campaigns  have  involved  some 
expenditure  of  blood  and  still  occasion  considerable 
expenditure  of  money.  It  is  a  question  whether  the 
resources  thus  applied  might  not  have  been  employed  at 
home  to  better  advantage.  The  French  do  not  colonize. 
They  wisely  prefer  to  dwell  in  their  own  fair  land. 

The  progress  of  ideas  under  the  Third  Republic  has 
kept  pace  with  the  evolution  of  western  thought.  Inven- 
tions and  discoveries — notably  those  of  Pasteur  in  the  line 
of  chemistry — have  contributed  their  share  to  the  advance- 
ment of  mankind.  In  all  departments  of  science  there  are 
many  workers,  some  of  whom  have  attained  eminence. 
Literature  has  suffered,  as  it  has  everywhere  else.  Its 
springs  of  inspiration,  imaginative  or  realistic,  seem  to 
have  dried  up.  Hugo,  the  great  genius,  who  had  labored 
in  all  the  epochs  of  the  century  since  Waterloo,  worked 
on  in  this  also  in  full  possession  of  his  powers;  but  there 
was  no  one  to  bear  him  company.  In  fiction  the  better 
writers  are  realists  or  naturalists,  like  Daudet  and  Zola. 
In  poetry  the  Parnassians,  who  counted  among  their 
number  two  men  of  note,  Coppee  and  Sully-Prudhomme, 
were  soon  opposed  by  the  symbolists,  who  tried  to  carry 
poetry  back  to  its  origin  in  music,  appealing  to  the  ear 
and  not  the  eye.  The  dramatists  of  the  Empire  have  had 
no  successors.  The  stage  has  been  occupied  with  theatri- 


Introduction  13 

cal  experiments,  more  or  less  realistic  in  their  bent,  and  is 
now  freed  of  all  conventional  restraints.  Rules  of  con- 
struction have  given  way  to  complete  liberty.  Through- 
out the  whole  period  the  influence  of  Russian  and  Scandi- 
navian writers  has  been  plain,  affecting  now  fiction,  now 
drama.  But  on  the  whole  the  various  branches  of  litera- 
ture, having  exhausted  the  impetus  born  of  the  social 
changes  which  produced  the  French  Revolution,  are  wait- 
ing for  new  sources  of  emotion  to  reveal  themselves. 

THE   PRESENT   OUTLOOK 

The  future  of  France  may  be  judged  to  some  extent 
from  her  past.  In  government  she  may  have  reached  her 
goal.  No  other  form  of  administration  since  the  French 
Revolution  has  lasted  so  long  as  the  Third  Republic.  Its 
existence  has  at  times  been  precarious,  but  it  has  survived 
the  revival  of  Caesarism  in  Boulanger,  the  financial  scandal 
of  the  Panama  Canal,  the  injustice  and  party  spirit  of  the 
Dreyfus  affair.  There  is  every  likelihood  that  its  strength 
of  resistance  will  grow.  In  the  thirty-four  years  since 
Sedan  a  whole  generation  has  come  to  maturity,  a  genera- 
tion which  neither  ties  of  sentiment  nor  of  self-interest 
attach  to  a  dynasty.  The  common-school  system,  spread 
throughout  the  land,  is  in  itself  a  great  protection  against 
reaction  to  a  monarchy,  where  clerical  instructors  and 
parochial  education  would  be  supreme.  Pretenders  to 
the  throne  are  too  far  removed  in  blood  from  the  old 
sovereigns  to  create  any  serious  diversion  in  their  favor. 
In  foreign  affairs  the  Republic  has  attained  a  position  of 
dignity. 

Among  the  French  people  there  is  a  visible  drift 
towards  socialism,  as  in  all  other  countries.  But  in 


14  Ten  Frenchmen 

France  this  drift  is  opposed  even  more  resolutely  than 
elsewhere  by  the  peasant  proprietors  and  the  steady,  self- 
centered  bourgeoisie.  Legislation  in  behalf  of  the  artisans 
and  non-property-holding  classes  may  be  expected,  forced 
as  elsewhere  by  the  broadening  of  the  democratic  principle 
and  the  growth  of  altruism.  But  revolutions  should  be 
less  and  less  feared  as  the  people  learn  the  art  of  self- 
government,  and  acquire  the  habit  of  making  the  ballot- 
box  the  arbiter  of  disputes.  Some  decentralization  will 
undoubtedly  be  carried  through,  as  much  as  the  genius  of 
the  nation,  which  demands  order  and  unity,  will  allow. 
In  short,  the  Republic  will  continue  to  be,  but  it  will  con- 
tinue to  be  French,  not  Germanic  nor  Anglo-Saxon. 
Offering,  as  it  does,  full  play  to  the  expression  of  indi- 
vidual thought  and  opinion,  it  should  be  more  completely 
representative  of  French  genius  than  any  despotic  or 
restricted  kind  of  administration. 

As  a  military  power  the  France  of  the  future  will  be  of 
less  consequence  than  the  France  of  the  past.  And  the 
France  of  the  future  will  also  be  a  less  important  factor 
in  the  industrial  world.  Individual  selfishness  and  the 
selfishness  of  family  feeling  combine  to  restrict  that 
growth  in  population  which  is  a  necessary  foundation  of 
enterprise  and  power.  If  children  only  avail  to  fill  the 
places  vacated  by  their  parents,  invention  will  decline  and 
the  power  of  initiative  will  be  dwarfed  for  lack  of  exer- 
cise. But  France  will  continue  to  lead  the  nations  in 
taste  and  art.  She  is  the  Greece  of  the  modern  world. 
To  an  unusual  degree  receptive  of  ideas,  from  whatever 
quarter  they  may  come,  she  assimilates  these  ideas, 
recasts  them,  and  presents  them  again  to  their  originators 
clad  in  her  own  inimitable  form.  This  process  has  been 


Introduction  15 

repeated  at  every  stage  of  her  existence,  since  the  battle 
of  Hastings  and  the  crusade  of  Peter  the  Hermit,  ever 
since  France  has  felt  herself  a  nation.  It  will  continue 
until  she  ceases  to  be  a  nation.  For  her  supremacy  does 
not  rest  on  the  might  of  armies,  but  on  the  charm  of 
thought. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 

The  French  People.    Arthur  Hassall. 
Modern  France,  1789-1895.    Andre  Lebon. 


CHAPTER    II 

GUIZOT   AND   THE   CAUSE   OF   CONSTITUTIONAL 
MONARCHY 

[FRANCOIS  PIERRE  GUILLAUME  GUIZOT,  born  at  Nimes,  Octo- 
ber 4,  1787;  Adjunct  Professor  of  Modern  History  in  the 
University  of  Paris,  1812;  Secretary-General  in  the  Ministry 
of  the  Interior  under  Louis  XVIII,  1814;  Counselor  of  State, 
1816-1820;  deputy  from  Lisieux  and  Minister  of  the  Interior, 
1830;  Minister  of  Public  Instruction,  1832-1836;  member  of 
the  French  Academy,  1836;  Ambassador  to  England,  1840; 
Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  and  Prime  Minister,  1840-1848; 
Died  at  Val  Richer,  in  Normandy,  September  12,  1874.  Prin- 
cipal works:  "History  of  Civilization  in  Europe,"  1828;  "His- 
tory of  Civilization  in  France,"  1830.] 

The  fall  of  Napoleon  was  brought  about  quite  as  much 
by  the  exhaustion  of  France  as  by  the  uprising  of  Europe. 
For  two  decades  the  French  people  had  lived  in  a  state  of 
almost  constant  alarm.  Campaign  had  succeeded  cam- 
paign with  but  short  intervals  of  intermission.  To  defend 
the  existence  of  the  Republic  at  first  and  afterwards  to 
maintain  the  glories  of  the  Empire,  the  mask  under  which 
Bonaparte  concealed  his  personal  ambition,  the  land  had 
been  fairly  drained  of  able-bodied  men,  and  disease  and 
death  had  seated  themselves  in  the  corner  of  every  hearth. 
Through  these  privations  the  nation  as  a  whole  had 
wearied  of  war.  The  return  of  Napoleon  from  Elba  met 
with  only  moderate  enthusiasm.  Few  save  his  restless 
veterans  gathered  around  his  standard.  The  country 
longed  for  peace.  For  peace  it  was  ready  to  sacrifice  its 

16 


FRANqOIS   PIERRE   GUILLAUME   GUIZOT 


Guizot  and  Constitutional  Monarchy       17 

ambition  and  much  of  its  pride,  and  Waterloo  occasioned 
at  the  time  but  slight  regrets. 

Still  the  task  which  devolved  on  the  monarchy  of  Louis 
XVIII  was  not  an  easy  one.  The  sympathies  of  the  king 
were  naturally  with  the  old  order  of  things.  His  court, 
composed  in  large  part  of  the  nobility  which  had  fled  from 
France  during  the  Revolution,  and  whose  estates  had  been 
confiscated  by  the  government  in  consequence,  was  moved 
by  every  private  interest  to  help  undo  the  work  of  the 
administrations  which  had  remade  France  during  its 
absence.  But  almost  at  the  other  end  of  the  social  scale 
was  the  large  body  of  newly  created  proprietors,  peasants, 
and  small  tradesmen,  who  had  held  by  law  these  confis- 
cated estates  for  twenty  years  and  more.  Whether  their 
title  was  based  on  right  or  not,  they  constituted  so  numer- 
ous an  element  of  the  population,  perhaps  even  the  major- 
ity, that  it  was  out  of  the  question  to  dispossess  them. 
And  in  the  center  was  the  great  French  bourgeoisie,  which 
had  carried  on  the  Revolution  in  order  to  secure  its  natural 
rights,  and  had  increased  its  wealth  gained  by  manufac- 
turing and  commerce  to  a  degree  that  made  it  the  equal 
of  the  nobility  in  all  material  things.  This  class  aimed  at 
social  equality,  and  possessed  the  means  requisite  to  reach 
that  goal.  Over  against  the  nobles  its  interests  lay  with 
the  peasant  proprietors.  The  alliance  was  formidable, 
preponderant.  The  advisers  of  the  restored  monarchy 
were  forced  to  heed  it.  All  but  the  most  narrow  of  the 
emigres  at  once  realized  that  the  ancien  regime  was  gone 
beyond  recall.  The  age  of  special  privilege  bestowed  by 
birth  had  passed.  It  was  probable  that  the  influence  of 
the  former  privileged  class  would  wane.  The  rising  tide 
of  democracy,  which  had  swept  the  state  from  its  moor- 


1 8  Ten  Frenchmen 

ings  during  the  Reign  of  Terror,  had  found  a  ruler  to  be 
sure  in  Bonaparte,  but  a  ruler  who  increased  its  volume 
while  curbing  its  current.  His  check  removed,  if  it  was 
not  to  engulf  anew  the  whole  social  fabric,  a  dike  was 
necessary.  This  dike  could  only  be  found  in  a  union  of 
the  nobility  with  the  upper  bourgeoisie.  Such  was  the 
political  problem  of  France  from  1815  to  1848. 

Foreigners  think  of  Guizot  as  a  great  historian;  and 
in  truth,  his  historical  work  constitutes  the  lasting  basis  of 
his  fame.  But  he  himself  desired  to  be  regarded  as  a 
statesman,  and  the  years  of  his  most  vigorous  manhood 
were  given  over  to  politics.  Born  in  Nimes,  the  old 
Roman  town  in  the  south  of  France,  in  1787,  but  two 
years  before  the  beginning  of  the  French  Revolution,  his 
career  was  both  made  and  marred  by  that  great  event. 
It  was  made  because  he  was  a  child  of  Protestant  parents, 
and  Protestants  of  the  bourgeois  grade  could  hope  for  little 
favor  in  royal  France.  It  was  marred  because  Guizot 's 
father,  a  zealous  advocate  of  liberty,  was  revolted  by  the 
horrors  of  the  Reign  of  Terror,  and  answered  for  his 
defection  with  his  head,  in  1794.  The  mother  remained, 
a  woman  of  unusual  endowments  of  mind  and  firmness  of 
character.  Under  her  steady  hand  the  young  Francois 
grew  to  manhood.  She  had  fled  to  Geneva  with  her 
family,  and  there,  under  the  protection  of  a  republican 
form  of  government,  and  perhaps  subjected  to  the  leveling 
theories  of  Rousseau,  a  native  of  Geneva,  the  son  began 
his  education  and  learned  the  carpenter's  trade.  In  1805 
he  went  to  Paris  to  study  law,  and  at  once  showed  his 
aptitude  for  a  literary  calling.  Journal  articles,  reviews, 
essays,  books  even,  followed  one  another  in  rapid  succes- 
sion, for  Guizot  ever  possessed  the  capacity  for  hard  labor. 


Guizot  and  Constitutional  Monarchy       19 

Finally  an  annotated  translation  of  Gibbon's  "History" 
gave  evidence  of  his  real  talent,  and  brought  about,  in 
1 8 12,  his  nomination  to  the  chair  of  history  at  the  univer- 
sity. With  his  opening  lecture  his  conception  of  historical 
investigation  was  formulated,  the  school  of  philosophical 
history  was  founded. 

The  abdication  of  Napoleon  called  Guizot  into  political 
life  as  an  officer  in  the  Interior  Department.  But  he  soon 
found  that  the  royalists  had  much  to  learn,  and  provoked 
by  their  arrogant  demands,  he  resigned  his  post  on  the 
eve  of  Napoleon's  return  from  Elba.  During  the  Hun- 
dred Days,  however,  the  group  of  liberals  who  wished  a 
constitutional  monarchy,  shaped  according  to  the  English 
pattern,  perfected  a  tentative  organization.  Guizot  was 
their  chosen  spokesman,  and  before  Waterloo  was  fought 
had  already  carried  to  Louis  XVIII,  who  had  taken 
refuge  in  Ghent,  their  advice  to  accept  the  work  of  the 
Revolution  without  reservation,  and  dismiss  all  reaction- 
ary councilors.  This  embassy  to  the  exiled  king,  at  a 
time  when  France  was  again  engaged  in  foreign  wars,  was 
never  forgiven  by  the  Bonapartists.  In  the  days  of 
Guizot 's  unpopularity  it  was  the  great  reproach  that  his 
enemies  cast  upon  him,  so  that  even  the  urchins  in  the 
streets  of  Paris  were  familiar  with  "that  rascal  of  a  Guizot 
who  went  to  Ghent,"  without  knowing  in  the  least  what 
the  phrase  meant. 

The  Second  Restoration  called  him  back  into  the 
administration.  Again  his  moderation,  his  middle  course, 
opposed  at  once  to  the  extreme  reaction  towards  the  old 
rule  and  to  the  claims  of  unrestrained  popular  sovereignty, 
ruined  his  political  prospects.  He  and  his  friends,  men 
of  patriotism  and  learning,  wished  a  government  which 


2O  Ten  Frenchmen 

should  recognize  the  existing  material  and  social  status  of 
the  country,  and  should  rule  through  a  sovereign  held  in 
check  by  a  constitution  and  by  a  parliament,  elected  from 
such  limited  number  of  citizens  as  possessed  the  requisite 
property  qualifications.  This  program  satisfied  neither  the 
people  nor  the  nobles.  It  seems  to  have  been  neither 
reactionary  nor  progressive.  It  tried  to  hold  things  as 
they  were.  The  members  of  this  group  were  maliciously 
termed  "Doctrinaires,"  and  their  downfall  in  1820  was 
rejoiced  in  by  both  liberals  and  conservatives.  This 
catastrophe,  however,  restored  Guizot  to  his  professor's 
chair,  and  marks  the  beginning  of  his  professional  reputa- 
tion. 

Lectures,  political  pamphlets  against  the  government, 
and  historical  publications  succeeded  or  accompanied  one 
another  during  the  next  decade.  Because  of  his  attitude 
as  an  opponent  the  government  took  the  extreme  measure 
of  suspending  his  courses  from  1825  to  1828.  But  this 
punishment  only  allowed  the  student  greater  opportunity 
to  prosecute  his  private  work.  It  was  also  a  great  factor 
in  increasing  his  popularity  with  all  classes  of  society. 
When,  in  1828,  he  was  allowed  to  resume  the  duties  of 
his  chair,  he  was  greeted  with  an  enthusiasm  that  quick- 
ened his  natural  genius  to  an  unwonted  degree,  and  made 
the  next  two  years  the  brilliant  ones  in  the  annals  of  his- 
torical science.  For  Guizot's  fame  rests  on  his  profes- 
sional writings  of  this  period.  They  are  numerous  and 
weighty.  In  their  preparation  he  received  a  very  con- 
siderable help  from  his  talented  wife,  particularly  in  the 
great  collection  of  "Memoirs  Relating  to  Mediaeval  French 
History"  and  the  "Memoirs  Relating  to  the  English 
Revolution"  (under  Cromwell),  both  of  which  seem  to 


Guizot  and  Constitutional  Monarchy       21 

have  been  planned  by  her.  From  Guizot 's  own  pen  came 
the  "Essays  on  the  History  of  France  in  the  Fifth  Cen- 
tury," the  "History  of  the  English  Revolution,"  and 
finally  the  fundamental  treatises  of  the  "History  of  Civili- 
zation in  Europe"  and  the  "History  of  Civilization  in 
France."  In  the  field  of  pure  literature  he  gave  his  name 
to  a  revision  of  a  translation  of  Shakespeare,  made  by 
Letourneur  in  the  eighteenth  century — most  of  which  was 
due  to  the  hand  of  Madame  Guizot — to  which  he  prefaced 
an  introduction  on  "Shakespeare  and  Dramatic  Poetry." 
This  essay  discusses  the  comparative  merits  of  the  roman- 
tic theater,  as  represented  by  the  great  Englishman,  and 
the  classical  stage,  as  conceived  by  Voltaire.  Guizot, 
with  the  great  men  of  his  time,  was  a  romanticist.  In 
1828  he  also  assumed  the  editorship  of  the  Revue  Fran- 
faise,  the  forerunner  of  the  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes. 

An  election  to  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  in  1830,  and 
the  July  Revolution,  which  quickly  followed,  once  again 
transformed  the  historian  into  the  politician.  The  latter's 
views  had  not  been  modified  during  the  years  of  opposi- 
tion to  royal  authority.  He  still  held  for  a  constitutional 
monarchy  based  on  restricted  suffrage.  For  a  time  this 
moderate  measure  was  satisfactory  to  the  nation.  Guizot 
successively  filled  various  offices  of  public  trust,  in  which 
he  came  into  contact  with  Thiers,  who  was  just  beginning 
his  long  career  of  varied  success,  which  was  to  culminate 
in  the  presidency  of  the  third  and  lasting  Republic.  In 
the  most  notable  of  the  ministries  formed  between  1830 
and  1840  our  author  won  the  gratitude  of  the  country  by 
his  reorganization  of  the  system  of  public  education. 
When  he  retired  from  power  in  1836  he  found  the  doors 
of  the  French  Academy  open  to  him.  Before  this  emi- 


22  Ten  Frenchmen 

nent  body,  composed  of  the  great  names  of  France,  he 
was  destined  to  repeat  the  oratorical  triumphs  of  the 
parliamentary  tribune.  His  chief  contribution  to  litera- 
ture during  this  decade  was  one  well  calculated  to  attract 
the  attention  of  Americans.  At  the  request  of  the  trans- 
Atlantic  editors  Guizot  chose  from  Sparks 's  "Washing- 
ton" what  he  judged  to  be  best  suited  to.  interest  and  in- 
struct the  French  people.  He  translated  and  published 
this  selection  with  an  essay  on  Washington's  life  (1840), 
which  at  once  took  first  rank  among  the  masterpieces  of 
biography.  There  is  little  doubt  that  Guizot  thought  he 
saw  in  the  calm  equipoise  of  the  great  leader  of  our  own 
Revolution  a  counterpart  of  his  own  political  moderation, 
and  we  may  safely  assume  that  the  firmness  of  Washing- 
ton in  the  midst  of  the  turmoils  of  his  public  life  inspired 
Guizot  in  maintaining  a  rigidity  of  principle  which  was 
not  justified  by  the  surroundings  of  a  later  generation. 

A  short  residence  in  London,  as  ambassador  to  the 
court  of  Saint  James,  preluded  a  greater  participation  of 
Guizot  in  the  political  affairs  of  France.  Though  in  the 
ministry  which  was  formed  in  the  autumn  of  1840,  he 
was  nominally  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  (State)  only, 
yet  he  was  the  guiding  spirit  of  the  whole  cabinet,  was 
responsible  for  its  measures  of. both  foreign  and  domestic 
policy,  and  when  Marshal  Soult,  the  figure-head,  finally 
retired  from  the  presidency  of  the  cabinet,  Guizot  was 
forced  to  assume  the  authority  in  name  as  well  as  fact. 
In  his  relations  with  other  powers  he  was  able  and  dis- 
creet. An  open  collision  with  England  over  the  eternal 
Eastern  Question,  made  acute  in  1840  by  the  attitude  of 
the  viceroy  of  Egypt  towards  his  suzerain  at  Constanti- 
nople, was  averted  by  his  reasonableness  and  personal 


Guizot  and  Constitutional  Monarchy       23 

acquaintance  with  the  English  ministers,  and  the  next 
year  his  ability  succeeded  in  putting  an  end  to  the  isola- 
tion of  France  in  European  affairs,  which  had  been  the 
result  of  this  temporary  disagreement.  Not  long  after- 
wards the  conquest  of  Algeria  was  definitely  assured,  and 
French  influence  became  firmly  intrenched  beyond  the 
Mediterranean.  Other  measures,  such  as  joint  action 
with  England  in  regard  to  the  slave  trade,  and  marriages 
between  the  princes  of  the  House  of  Orleans  and  the 
royal  family  of  Spain,  were  conducted  to  satisfactory  con- 
clusions. In  the  words  of  one  of  his  recent  biographers, 
Guizot  possessed  a  "patriotism  better  conceived  (than 
that  of  the  multitude) — broader,  into  which  entered  a  gen- 
eral sentiment  of  justice  together  with  love  for  humanity." 
If  Guizot's  foreign  policy  was  justified  by  its  fruits  the 
exact  reverse  is  true  of  his  domestic  administration.  It 
was  an  increasing  failure  from  start  to  finish.  It  was 
directly  responsible  for  the  destruction  of  the  throne  and 
the  ruin  of  constitutional  monarchy  in  France.  We  can 
only  explain  this  apparent  anomaly  in  a  historian  of  the 
first  magnitude  by  the  assumption  that  he  was  endowed 
with  unusual  self-esteem,  with  a  disposition  unyielding  in 
the  extreme,  and  that  these  natural,  innate  qualities  were 
fortified  by  arbitrary  preconceptions  supported  by  a  limited 
number  of  deductions  from  the  teachings  of  history.  But 
whatever  our  explanation  may  be,  the  fact  remains  that 
the  political  Guizot  of  1840  was  the  political  Guizot  of 
1815.  And  yet  a  generation  of  men  had  come  and  gone. 
Times  had  changed,  even  if  we  suppose  that  in  1815  he 
was  in  harmony  with  the  times.  He  alone  had  not 
changed.  Theoretically  he  believed  in  a  constitutional 
monarchy  based  on  a  limited  electorate,  determined  by 


24  Ten  Frenchmen 

the  amount  of  direct  taxation  assessed  on  the  individual 
citizen.  Practically  he  stood  by  the  first  statutes  for 
determining  this  amount,  which  had  been  voted  in  1831, 
and  no  pressure  nor  argument  could  move  him  from  his 
position. 

With  this  question  of  suffrage  was  connected  the  acci- 
dental one  of  the  propriety  of  deputies  holding  offices  under 
the  government,  for  which  they  might  receive  pecuniary 
emolument.  Deputies  who  were  also  office-holders  were 
naturally  the  objects  of  suspicion.  Their  financial  inter- 
ests were  bound  to  affect  their  votes.  Guizot  apparently 
did  not  deny  this  accusation,  nor  did  he  consider  the  elec- 
toral body  of  his  day  an  ideal  one.  He  seems  to  have 
wished  to  adjourn  discussion  on  either  subject,  in  the  belief 
that  agitation  and  change  would  be  harmful  to  the  govern- 
ment. The  two  questions  were  in  no  way  associated.  It 
was  the  opposition  of  the  administration  to  the  consider- 
ation of  either  of  them  that  joined  them  together  in  the 
public  mind.  In  1842  an  attempt  was  made  to  modify 
existing  regulations  in  both  instances.  The  number  of 
electors  at  that  time  approximated  224,000,  out  of  a  pos- 
sible 7,OOO,OOO,  had  universal  suffrage  existed.  Of  the 
deputies  sitting  in  the  Chamber  about  one-third  were 
salaried  government  officials.  Guizot  approved  of  the 
limitations  which  made  the  upper  bourgeoisie  the  rulers  of 
the  country,  a  business  man's  government.  He  saw  no 
peril  in  the  large  proportion  of  legislators  attached  by 
self-interest  to  the  administration. 

He  defends  in  his  "Memoirs"  his  attitude  regarding 
the  electorate  by  claiming  that  as  society  had  become 
more  united,  homogeneous,  one  man  represented  more 
people  than  he  had  done  in  a  less  consolidated  commu- 


Guizot  and  Constitutional  Monarchy       25 

nity.  Hence  the  uselessness  of  universal  suffrage  and  the 
desirability  of  a  limited  body  of  truly  representative  men, 
who  possessed  to  a  greater  degree  than  those  less  suc- 
cessful in  worldly  affairs  the  capacity  for  political  action. 
But  the  democratic  spirit  of  the  Revolution  and  Empire, 
which  had  worked  less  openly  under  the  Restoration,  had 
been  rapidly  gaining  ground  under  the  July  monarchy. 
The  Napoleonic  tradition  had  recovered  from  the  reaction 
of  the  days  following  the  destructive  campaigns  of  Napo- 
leon, had  joined  itself  to  the  democratic  movement,  and 
lent  it  the  luster  of  military  success.  Guizot  himself  had 
furthered  this  sentiment  during  the  months  of  his  residence 
at  London,  when,  at  the  instigation  of  Thiers,  he  had 
obtained  from  the  English  authorities  the  permission  to 
bring  back  to  France  the  remains  of  the  great  Emperor. 
In  the  minds  of  a  large  faction  such  glory  as  the  Empire 
had  won  for  the  nation  had  been  tarnished  by  the  sordid 
pursuits  of  business.  It  was  also  evident  that  the  bour- 
geois electors  were  rapidly  confounding  the  interests  of  the 
state  with  those  of  their  own  families.  Corruption  entered 
into  elections  despite  the  fact  that  none  of  the  electors 
were  exposed  to  financial  want. 

As  the  decade  advanced  the  debates  in  the  Chamber 
grew  more  vehement.  The  aroused  partisans  of  Napo- 
leon, conscious  that  the  country  was  behind  them,  hurled 
at  Guizot  the  accusation  of  the  famous  trip  to  Ghent 
during  the  Hundred  Days.  He  retorted  with  equal 
vehemence.  The  apostles  of  universal  suffrage,  no  less 
insistent  than  their  Bonapartist  allies,  harried  the  govern- 
ment with  accusations  of  undue  conservatism,  with  blind- 
ness to  the  general  interests  of  the  country,  with  corruption 
within  its  own  chosen  body  of  voters.  All  of  these 


26  Ten  Frenchmen 

charges  were  true,  but  none  was  conceded  to  be  so  by 
Guizot.  With  a  fatuity  which  seems  incredible  in  a 
student  of  governmental  origin  and  changes,  he  rejected 
all  propositions  to  broaden  the  electoral  body,  and  assumed 
that  the  voice  of  the  upper  bourgeoisie  was  the  voice  of 
the  people.  It  was  either  bend  or  break.  Guizot  did 
not  know  how  to  bend,  and  February,  1848,  found  the 
"Man  of  Ghent"  a  fugitive  with  the  king.  But  to  his 
dying  day  Guizot  could  not  discern  wherein  he  had  erred 
in  thought  or  deed. 

The  Revolution  of  1848  put  an  end  to  all  plans  of 
public  life  on  the  part  of  Guizot.  His  unpopularity  knew 
almost  no  limit.  Universal  suffrage,  which  had  come  to 
stay,  whether  in  republic  or  empire,  considered  him  its 
greatest  enemy,  and  would  have  none  of  him.  The  pas- 
sions his  rule  must  have  aroused  may  still  be  felt  in  the 
contemptuous  hostility  which  both  the  literary  class — the 
elite  of  the  social  reformers — and  the  populace  still  feel 
for  the  self-absorbed,  wealth-begetting  bourgeoisie.  For 
they  build  their  hopes  for  a  regenerate  France  on  the 
nullification  of  this  materialistic  middle  class. 

Guizot's  exile  was  of  short  duration.  He  returned  to 
France  in  1849,  and  settled  down  on  the  estate  of  Val 
Richer,  in  Normandy,  which  he  had  owned  for  some 
years.  A  widower,  his  house  was  managed  by  one  of  his 
married  daughters.  Politics  were  lost  to  him.  He  busied 
himself  in  the  world  of  affairs  with  his  duties  as  an  acade- 
mician, and  his  interests  as  a  Protestant.  The  various 
orations  he  pronounced  on  the  reception  of  new  members 
by  the  Academy  proved  to  that  enlightened  audience  that 
separation  from  the  debates  of  a  legislative  assembly  had 
in  no  wise  impaired  the  wonders  of  his  eloquence.  His 


\ 


Guizot  and  Constitutional  Monarchy       27 

voice  was  also  heard  in  the  consistories  held  at  regular 
intervals  by  the  Reformed  Church,  and  the  services  of  his 
pen  were  enlisted  in  the  struggles  occasioned  by  the 
schisms  of  the  Protestant  sects.  Nor  was  he  estranged 
from  writings  of  a  larger  content.  Early  in  the  fifties 
he  consigned  his  "Memoirs"  to  manuscript.  He  had 
no  apologies  to  make.  He  had  learned  nothing  by  his 
failures  as  a  statesman.  Later  he  undertook  the  well- 
known  popular  "History  of  France  Told  to  my  Grand- 
children," which  was  planned  on  an  extensive  scale,  and 
finished  by  one  of  his  daughters  after  his  death.  Hack 
work  also  demanded  his  attention.  For  though  often 
accused  of  corrupting  others,  he  himself  remained  incor- 
ruptible, and  retired  from  years  of  undisputed  political 
power  poor  in  purse  and  unimpeached  in  integrity. 

He  was  destined  to  survive  all  of  his  family  save  one 
of  his  daughters.  It  was  his  misfortune  also  to  outlive  all 
the  friends  of  his  youth.  One  by  one  they  passed  away, 
widening  about  him  the  void  of  loneliness.  He  was  paying 
the  penalty  of  longevity.  He  also  witnessed  the  humilia- 
tion of  his  native  country  in  1870  and  1871.  "I  leave 
the  world  much  disturbed,"  he  had  written  to  one  of  his 
friends;  "how  will  it  be  born  again?  I  do  not  know  how, 
but  I  believe  it  will  be."  "We  must  serve  France,"  he 
used  to  say  to  his  daughter,  Madame  de  Witt,  "a  country 
hard  to  serve,  without  foresight  and  fickle.  We  must 
surely  serve  it;  it  is  a  great  country."  After  a  few  weeks 
of  increasing  weakness,  affirming  to  his  last  breath  his  love 
for  the  land  he  was  leaving,  and  his  belief  in  the  world  to 
come,  peopled  with  so  many  near  and  dear  to  him,  he 
expired  on  September  12,  1874,  within  a  few  days  of  his 
eighty-seventh  anniversary. 


28  Ten  Frenchmen 

A  striking  feature  of  the  inner  life  of  Guizot  is  the 
influence  of  woman.  First  his  mother,  slender  in  form, 
simple  in  manners,  but  clear-sighted,  determined,  forceful. 
To  her  training  the  boy,  orphaned  of  his  father,  owed  the 
directness  and  persistency  of  his  later  career.  Her  reli- 
gious beliefs,  Calvinistic,  but  not  intolerant,  if  we  may 
judge  of  them  by  her  son's  attitude,  remained  in  him,  a  con- 
stant spring  of  hope  and  justice.  Their  years  of  intimate 
intercourse  were  prolonged  beyond  the  wont  of  nature. 
She  went  into  exile  with  him  in  1848,  and  died  in  England. 
She  had  outlived  her  two  daughters-in-law.  The  first, 
who  was  a  woman  of  unusual  strength  of  character  and  of 
considerable  literary  reputation,  a  disciple  of  the  skeptical 
philosophy  of  the  eighteenth  century,  had  been  married  to 
Guizot  in  1 8 12,  her  junior  by  fourteen  years  and  more. 
He  owed  much  of  his  ambition  to  her.  He  confesses  this 
obligation  more  than  once,  and  on  his  ill-omened  trip  to 
Ghent,  writes  to  her  in  these  words:  "Do  you  know  what 
decided  me  to  go?  The  desire  to  become  everything  that 
I  should  be,  so  that  nothing  may  be  wanting  to  your  happi- 
ness. It  is  on  your  account  that  I  do  not  wish  to  miss 
any  occasion  to  distinguish  myself  from  other  men;  with- 
out our  union  I  should  have  lived  on  in  my  natural  indo- 
lence." Their  happiness  was  not  destined  to  last.  Worn 
out  by  an  existence  which  drained  her  nervous  force,  she 
spent  her  last  strength  on  an  educational  treatise,  and 
ceased  to  live  in  1827.  We  have  noted  the  part  she  took 
in  preparing  the  collections  of  memoirs  on  French  and 
English  history. 

Guizot's  second  wife,  a  niece  of  the  first,  had  inherited 
the  former's  fondness  for  literature  and  aptitude  for 
details.  Much  of  the  drudgery  connected  with  the  publi- 


Guizot  and  Constitutional  Monarchy       29 

cation  of  the  Revue  Franfaise  was  performed  by  her.  She 
also  assisted  her  husband  in  gathering  the  material  for  his 
great  lecture  courses  of  the  years  1828-1830.  But  her 
strength,  too,  was  unequal  to  the  task.  In  1833  she  was 
gone,  and  Guizot  was  left  to  the  care  of  his  mother  and 
daughters  during  the  remainder  of  his  life.  From  the 
evidence  at  hand  there  seems  to  be  no  doubt  that  his  liter- 
ary work  suffered  seriously  from  the  loss  of  these  two 
devoted  collaborators.  In  after  years  his  daughters 
replaced  them  to  some  extent,  but  rather  as  scribes  than 
as  co-workers. 

In  reviewing  Guizot 's  public  career,  one  must  not  forget 
to  mention  his  services  to  the  cause  of  education.  It 
forms  his  most  enduring  monument  as  an  administrator. 
For  the  results  of  his  diplomacy  were  ephemeral,  while 
*  his  whole  internal  policy,  with  the  important  excep- 
tion of  public  instruction,  was  a  fatal  mistake.  He  was 
Minister  of  Education  from  1832  to  1836.  Within  that 
short  period  of  four  years  he  found  time  to  revive  the 
Academy  of  Moral  and  Political  Science,  a  branch  of  the 
Institute  of  France,  which  was  established  in  1/95,  but 
had  been  suppressed  by  Napoleon,  in  1803,  to  found  the 
French  Historical  Society,  which  should  publish  historical 
works,  and  to  begin  the  collections  of  mediaeval  chronicles 
and  state  papers  which  succeeding  governments  have 
faithfully  continued  and  completed.  The  school  system 
of  France  also  became  an  object  of  his  special  care. 
Convinced  that  popular  education  should  be  impregnated 
with  religious  feeling,  he  opposed  all  attempts  to  alienate 
school  and  church;  a  separation  "destructive  of  the  moral 
value  of  the  school."  Laws  to  increase  the  number  of 
public  schools  were  passed,  and  their  direct  control  lodged 


30  Ten  Frenchmen 

in  boards  of  education,  in  which  both  clergy  and  laymen 
had  a  voice.  A  system  of  school  inspection  was  insti- 
tuted, and  inspectors  were  appointed  to  visit  the  schools 
and  advise  with  their  instructors.  The  effect  of  these 
measures  was  immediate  and  beneficial.  His  view  of  the 
higher  education  is  best  told  in  his  own  words,  taken  from 
a  letter  written  to  his  intimate  friend,  the  Due  de  Broglie, 
in  1832: 

"There  is  in  it  [the  higher  education]  something  which 
no  longer  answers  to  present  conditions,  to  the  natural 
bent  of  society  and  mankind.  I  don't  know  exactly  what 
it  is.  I  am  groping.  In  no  way  would  I  like  to  abolish 
or  even  weaken  that  study  of  language,  the  only  study 
really  vigorous  and  learned  at  this  time.  I  insist  on  the 
few  years  which  we  pass  in  familiar  intercourse  with 
antiquity;  for  he  who  does  not  know  it  is  but  a  parvenu 
in  the  matter  of  intelligence.  Greece  and  Rome  are 
schools  of  good  breeding  for  the  mind  of  man,  and  in  the 
midst  of  the  ruin  of  all  the  aristocracies  we  must  try  to 
keep  that  one  still  on  its  feet.  I  also  consider  college 
life  full  of  occupation  and  freedom,  as  intellectually  excel- 
lent on  the  whole.  From  it  alone  come  the  strong  minds, 
natural  and  keen  at  one  and  the  same  time,  minds  well 
trained,  well  developed,  without  any  factitious  bent,  with- 
out any  particular  stamp.  I  am  more  and  more  struck 
with  the  advantages  of  classical  education,  and  yet  I  admit 
I  see,  in  the  person  of  my  son,  that  there  is  something  to 
be  changed  there,  and  something  important.  The  instruc- 
tion is  too  thin  and  too  slow.  The  distance  between  the 
intellectual  atmosphere  of  the  real  world  and  that  of  the 
college  is  too  great.  The  methods  are  calculated  to  fit 
large  classes,  and  the  result  is  that  good  students  are 


Guizot  and  Constitutional  Monarchy      31 

sacrificed  to  mediocre  ones.  The  classes  are  very  large 
because  a  mass  of  children  cannot  find  what  they  need, 
and  wish  to  learn,  taught  anywhere.  To  tell  the  truth, 
the  college  and  almost  our  entire  system  of  public  instruc- 
tion are  still  patterned  on  the  model  of  former  social 
conditions.  The  dreamings  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
the  follies  of  the  Revolution  in  this  particular,  have  rightly 
disgusted  us  with  the  new  attempts  which  turned  out  so 
badly,  and  in  returning  to  the  old  way  we  have  fallen  into 
the  old  rut.  We  must  get  out  of  it,  but  very  carefully 
and  cautiously." 

With  an  opinion  like  this  so  uncertain,  fluctuating 
between  theoretical  and  practical  ideas,  it  was  useless  to 
expect  any  satisfactory  outcome  of  the  educational  prob- 
lem. Besides,  the  body  of  the  French  bourgeoisie  was 
not  prepared — and  does  not  seem  prepared  to-day — to 
accept  the  principle  of  freedom  of  instruction,  lay  or 
clerical,  which  Guizot  always  championed.  The  laws  he 
proposed  were  not  voted  by  the  upper  house. 

Conservative  as  he  was  in  the  matters  of  suffrage  and 
representation,  Guizot  was  ahead  of  his  times  in  the 
theories  of  education.  Perhaps  because  he  was  from  the 
south  of  France,  perhaps  because  of  his  historical  studies, 
he  believed  in  the  advisability  of  decentralizing  thought 
and  increasing  the  number  of  centers  for  its  dissemina- 
tion. Paris,  with  its  Institute,  its  schools  of  art  and 
science,  had  drained  the  country  and  the  smaller  towns  of 
their  intellectual  men.  To  be  sure,  there  were  some  few 
groups  of  teachers  employing  university  methods  scattered 
through  the  provinces.  But  these  did  not  suffice  to  stem 
the  current  setting  steadily  towards  the  great  capital. 
Guizot  wished  to  try  heroic  measures.  He  would  estab- 


32  Ten  Frenchmen 

lish  in  the  four  parts  of  France — at  Strassburg,  Rennes, 
Toulouse,  and  Montpellier — universities  in  fact  as  well  as 
in  name,  great  foundations  equipped  with  the  best  of 
buildings  and  apparatus,  manned  by  men  of  the  highest 
eminence,  offering  to  students  instruction  of  the  highest 
grade  in  every  branch  of  learning.  These  new  universi- 
ties should  be  true  centers  of  study  and  wisdom.  Another 
ideal  of  the  great  historian  which  was  not  realized,  and 
he  effected  but  little  else  than  placing  the  teaching  of 
philosophy  and  history  on  a  new  and  higher  plane. 

For  history  was  his  avocation  and  his  life.  Ambition 
could  lead  him  into  the  political  arena,  but  could  not  give 
him  the  victory.  Unfortunately,  like  many  other  men  of 
letters,  particularly  of  his  day  and  of  his  school,  the  time 
he  spent  in  politics  was  lost  to  his  reputation  with  poster- 
ity. The  disastrous  effects  of  public  life  may  be  seen  in 
the  fact  that  nearly  all  his  historical  works,  and  those 
which  are  most  original  and  most  lasting,  were  written 
before  1830.  Victor  Hugo  has  said  that  "old  age  has  no 
hold  on  minds  which  follow  ideal  pursuits,"  and  the  say- 
ing is  based  on  observation  of  facts.  Guizot's  best  work 
should  have  been  done  after  he  was  sixty  years  old,  espe- 
cially as  advancing  years  did  not  at  all  impair  his  physical 
vigor  or  mental  acuteness.  But  the  intervening  duties  of 
administrator  and  diplomat  had  raised  a  barrier  to  his  his- 
torical investigation  which  he  did  not  surmount. 

From  the  beginning  of  his  professorship  at  the  Sqr- 
bonne,  in  1812,  when  but  twenty-five  years  of  age,  he  had 
formulated  the  principles  which  were  to  revolutionize 
historical  research.  In  his  mind  the  duty  of  the  historian 
was  "to  discern  the  dominant  ideas,  the  great  events 
which  have  determined  the  destiny,  the  character  of  a 


Guizot  and  Constitutional  Monarchy       33 

long  series  of  generations"  rather  than  make  of  himself 
a  mechanical  chronicler  of  legislative  and  military  happen- 
ings. In  other  words,  he  should  look  behind  facts  for 
their  causes.  The  results  would  then  follow  of  them- 
selves. The  historian  should  also  be  a  philosopher.  He 
should  take  for  his  guide  his  reason,  and  follow  its  "postu- 
lates through  the  uncertain  labyrinth  of  facts."  His 
principles  were  thus  determined  a  priori,  and  facts  were 
made  to  fit  them,  too  often  perhaps  in  a  purely  arbitrary 
way.  Yet  Guizot  did  not  neglect  the  study  of  historical 
documents.  We  have  seen  that  he  both  made  collections 
of  texts  himself  and  incited  the  government  to  publish  all 
the  material  which  its  archives  could  yield.  And  on  the 
whole  his  method  remains  the  method  of  the  present  day. 
Individuals  to  him  were  of  slight  moment.  They  were 
borne  along  on  the  surface  of  the  social  stream.  Rarely 
would  he  admit  that  they  could  impede  its  progress  or 
direct  its  flow.  So  his  influence  was  optimistic.  He  was 
a  fervent  Protestant.  He  believed  in  an  overruling  Provi- 
dence. Moral  and  social  progress  went  hand  in  hand  with 
him. 

As  we  have  seen,  in  the  case  of  his  "Life  of  Washing- 
ton," he  used  his  historical  studies  to  guide  his  political 
career.  The  important  element  in  the  development  of 
nations,  he  claims,  is  contributed  not  by  the  upper  or 
lower  classes,  but  by  the  opulent  middle  class,  which  is 
given  over  to  industry  and  ever  seeking  to  advance  its 
sway.  Some  later  historians,  evidently  of  Guizot's  school, 
have  affirmed  that  no  war  of  conquest  is  ever  undertaken 
without  a  material  object  in  view,  namely,  the  increase  of 
the  wealth  of  the  assailants.  Guizot  may  not  have  formu- 
lated such  a  statement,  but  he  could  hardly  have  disowned 


34  Ten  Frenchmen 

it.  His  political  theories  were  definitely  crystallized  by 
his  investigation  of  the  English  Revolution,  the  results  of 
which  were  to  establish  on  a  firm  foundation  the  institu- 
tions of  modern  England,  at  one  and  the  same  time  Prot- 
estant and  liberal.  These  outgrowths  of  many  centuries 
he  hoped  to  adapt  to  the  needs  of  France. 

It  was  philosophical  history,  then,  which  he  cultivated; 
human  events  interpreted  by  man's  reason.  The  danger 
of  such  a  system  is  obvious.  The  reason  is  individual 
and  consequently  the  interpretations  may  be  as  numerous 
as  the  minds  which  interpret.  But  such  a  theory  is  a 
great  advance  over  the  chronological  and  biographical 
method,  and  with  all  its  defects  it  is  not  easy  to  see  how 
it  can  be  replaced  by  any  other  view.  To  this  theory 
Guizot  made  three  notable  contributions,  all  of  which 
were  the  products  of  his  lecture  courses  at  the  university: 
the  "Essays  on  French  History,"  in  1823,  and  the  "His- 
tories of  Civilization,"  in  1828-1830.  In  the  "Essays" 
he  shows  how  from  the  beginning  France  and  England 
differed  in  their  political  institutions;  how  these  institu- 
tions in  France  were  the  result  of  the  destruction  of  the 
middle  classes  by  the  fiscal  administration  of  Rome.  The 
middle  classes  gone  there  was  no  bulwark  left  to  withstand 
the  Germanic  invasion  of  the  fifth  century.  What  civili- 
zation was  saved  from  the  wreck  was  due  to  the  clergy, 
who  preserved  to  some  extent  the  laws  and  customs  of 
Rome.  Through  the  clergy  these  laws  and  customs  were 
handed  down  to  the  communes  of  the  Middle  Ages.  So 
with  feudalism.  Its  origins  are  to  be  found  in  the  per- 
sonal relations  of  men  at  a  period  when  these  relations 
were  peculiarly  influenced  by  the  ownership  of  land  or  the 
lack  of  such  ownership.  Its  reasons  for  existence  lay  in 


Guizot  and  Constitutional  Monarchy       35 

the  needs  of  the  individual.  Its  growth  and  decay  were 
alike  due  to  his  demands.  The  lesson  of  this  period  is 
that  France  of  the  Middle  Ages  was  individual,  while 
England  was  national. 

The  great  works  of  Guizot  are  his  two  histories  of 
civilization,  in  Europe  and  in  France.  The  first  general, 
the  second  special  and  illustrative  of  the  first.  In  these 
new  lectures  the  views  of  the  "Essays"  are  taken  up  and 
carried  out  with  a  greater  wealth  of  material,  wider  illus- 
trations, and  more  convincing  logic.  France,  for  Guizot, 
is  the  center  of  European  civilization,  hence  the  close 
connection  between  the  two  courses.  Distanced  at  times 
by  its  sister  nations,  France  nevertheless  has  in  the  long 
run  maintained  her  supremacy  over  them.  She  shows 
most  clearly  the  workings  out  of  the  development  of  all 
the  states,  through  the  progress  of  the  individual  on  the 
one  hand  and  of  society  on  the  other.  The  history  of 
Europe  has  been  told  by  the  struggles  of  these  two 
antagonistic  principles.  And  the  conflict  between  the 
government  on  the  one  side,  and  the  people  on  the  other, 
has  not  yet  reached  a  solution.  The  nearest  approach  to 
a  lasting  truce  is  found  in  England,  where  the  church  and 
state  developed  side  by  side,  as  also  the  aristocracy  and 
democracy.  On  the  Continent  the  growth  of  each  of 
these  elements  was  antagonized  by  the  other,  and  the 
essence  of  Protestantism— freedom  of  investigation  of 
truth — has  constantly  clashed  with  the  tendency  towards 
the  centralization  of  power. 

In  France  the  upper  classes  of  society,  the  nobility  and 
the  bourgeoisie,  have  remained  constantly  hostile  to  each 
other.  The  French  people  once  in  possession  of  an  idea 
follow  it  out  to  its  logical  extreme,  to  a  point  where  retreat 


36  Ten  Frenchmen 

becomes  inevitable.  On  the  contrary,  the  individual  and 
society  in  general  have  advanced  together  in  France. 
Ideas  and  facts  have  been  intimately  united.  Speculative , 
thought  and  its  practical  application  have  never  remained 
far  apart.  The  one  has  closely  followed  in  the  footsteps 
of  the  other,  as  witness  the  eighteenth  century  and  the 
reforms  induced  by  its  philosophers.  The  cause  for  this 
association  is  found  in  the  reasonable  character  of  the 
different  classes  which  compose  French  society.  The 
clergy,  learned  and  active  in  parochial  work;  the  lawyers 
and  magistrates,  steeped  in  sound  doctrine  and  insistent 
in  experimentation;  above  all,  the  moderation,  the  avoid- 
ance of  extremes,  which  is  the  distinctive  trait  of  French 
character  from  one  generation  to  another.  So  civilization 
in  France,  in  Guizot's  opinion,  reproduces  most  faithfully 
the  general  type  of  civilization.  Its  visible  tendency 
towards  national  unity,  and  therefore  towards  political 
unity,  reveals  the  final  goal  of  the  more  halting  civiliza- . 
tions  around  it. 

This  study  of  civil  society  was  to  be  followed  by  studies 
of  religious  society  in  its  relation  to  the  state  and  the 
papacy.  A  further  extension  of  the  plan  would  embrace 
the  history  of  the  human  mind  as  shown  in  the  modern 
tongues,  the  national  literatures,  and  the  Latin  language, 
the  vehicle  of  theological  and  philosophical  thought.  But 
the  July  Revolution  interrupted  this  masterful  program, 
and  it  was  never  resumed.  Yet  what  was  committed  to 
manuscript  and  given  to  the  public  has  proved  a  model 
and  guide  for  subsequent  students  of  the  historical 
sciences. 


Guizot  and  Constitutional  Monarchy       37 


EXTRACTS    FROM    THE   WRITINGS    OF    GUIZOT 

The  Opening  Lecture  of  ' '  The  History  of  Civilization  in 
Europe1 ' 

[Guizot  resumes  his  lectureship  after  some  years  of  governmental 
injunction.] 

Gentlemen: — I  am  deeply  touched  by  the  greeting  I  receive 
from  you.  I  will  allow  myself  to  say  that  I  accept  it  as  a  pledge 
of  the  sympathy  which  has  not  ceased  to  exist  between  us  in  spite 
of  so  long  a  separation.  I  say  that  the  sympathy  has  not  ceased 
to  exist,  as  if  I  found  again  in  this  hall  the  same  people,  the  same 
generation  which  was  accustomed  to  come  here  seven  years  ago, 
and  share  in  my  labors.  (Guizot  seems  moved  and  stops  a 
moment.)  I  beg  your  pardon,  gentlemen,  your  kindly  welcome 

has  affected  me  a  little Because  I  return  here  it  seems  to 

me  that  all  should  return,  that  nothing  is  changed.  Everything  is 
changed  none  the  less,  and  much  changed !  Seven  years  ago  we 
used  to  enter  here  uneasy,  preoccupied  with  a  sad,  burdensome 
thought.  We  knew  we  were  surrounded  with  difficulties,  with 
perils;  we  felt  ourselves  drawn  along  towards  an  evil  which  we 
vainly  tried  to  turn  aside  by  dint  of  seriousness,  calmness, 
reserve.  To-day  we  all  come,  you  as  well  as  I,  confidently  and 
hopefully,  our  hearts  at  peace  and  our  thoughts  free.  We  have 
but  one  way  of  worthily  showing  our  gratitude  for  this,  and  that 
way  is  to  bring  to  our  reunions  and  studies  the  same  calmness, 
the  same  reserve  we  used  to  bring  when  we  thought  every  day  we 

should  see  them  hindered  or  forbidden We  have  but  a 

very  short  time  before  the  end  of  the  year.  I  have  had  very  little 
time  to  think  over  the  course  I  should  offer  you.  I  have  tried  to 
find  the  subject  which  could  be  best  treated  in  the  very  few  months 
which  remain,  and  in  the  very  few  days  allowed  me  for  prepara- 
tion. It  seemed  to  me  that  a  general  picture  of  modern  European 
history,  considered  in  its  relation  to  the  development  of  civiliza- 
tion, a  general  glance  at  the  history  of  European  civilization,  its 
origins,  progress,  goal,'  and  character— it  seemed  to  me,  I 
repeat,  that  such  a  picture  could  be  fitted  to  the  time  at  our  dis- 
posal. This  is  the  subject  I  have  settled  upon  to  talk  to  you  about. 


38  Ten  Frenchmen 

I  say  the  civilization  of  Europe.  It  is  evident  that  there  is  a 
European  civilization,  that  a  certain  unity  is  manifest  in  the  civili- 
zation of  the  different  states  of  Europe,  that  in  spite  of  great 
differences  in  time,  place,  circumstances,  this  civilization  takes  its 
rise  in  facts  that  are  almost  alike,  is  attached  to  the  same  prin- 
ciples, and  tends  to  bring  about  like  results  almost  everywhere. 
There  is,  then,  a  European  civilization,  and  I  wish  to  call  your 
attention  to  its  general  features. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  evident  that  this  civilization  cannot  be 
found,  that  its  history  cannot  be  traced,  in  the  history  of  a  single 
one  of  the  states  of  Europe.  If  it  possesses  unity,  its  variety  is 
none  the  less  prodigious.  It  has  not  developed  in  its  entirety  in 
any  special  country.  Its  features  are  diverse;  we  must  look  for 
the  elements  of  its  history,  now  in  France,  now  in  England,  now 
in  Germany,  now  in  Spain. 

We  are  well  placed  to  give  ourselves  up  to  this  research  and 
study  European  civilization.  We  should  not  flatter  any  one,  not 
even  our  country.  However,  I  believe  we  may  say  without  flattery 
that  France  has  been  the  center,  the  hearth  of  European  civiliza- 
tion. It  would  be  too  much  to  claim  that  she  has  always  marched 
at  the  head  of  nations  in  every  direction.  At  various  epochs  she 
has  been  outstripped,  by  Italy  in  the  arts,  by  England  from  the 
standpoint  of  political  institutions.  Perhaps  in  other  particulars 
we  would  find  other  countries  of  Europe  superior  to  her  at  certain 
moments.  But  it  is  impossible  to  deny  that  every  time  France 
has  seen  herself  outstripped  in  the  career  of  civilization  she  has 
taken  on  a  new  vigor,  has  rushed  ahead,  and  has  soon  found  her- 
self on  a  level  with  all  the  rest  or  ahead  of  them.  And  not  only 
has  the  peculiar  destiny  of  France  been  such  as  I  have  said,  but 
the  ideas,  the  civilizing  institutions,  which  had  their  birth  in  other 
territories,  when  they  wished  to  transplant  themselves,  to  become 
fruitful  and  general,  to  act  to  the  common  profit  of  European 
civilization,  have  been  seen  in  some  degree  obliged  to  undergo  a 
new  preparation  in  France;  and  it  is  from  France,  as  from  a 
second  fatherland,  that  they  have  gone  forth  to  the  conquest  of 
Europe.  There  is  hardly  any  great  idea,  any  great  principle  of 
civilization,  which,  in  order  to  spread  everywhere,  has  not  first 
passed  through  France. 


Guizot  and  Constitutional  Monarchy       39 

The  fact  is  that  there  is  something  sociable,  something  sympa- 
thetic, in  the  genius  of  the  French,  something  which  is  propagated 
with  more  ease  and  energy  than  the  genius  of  any  other  people. 
Whether  because  of  our  language  or  the  turn  of  our  mind,  of  our 
manners,  our  ideas  are  more  popular,  present  themselves  more 
clearly  to  the  masses,  penetrate  among  them  more  easily.  In  a 
word,  clearness,  sociability,  sympathy,  are  the  peculiar  character- 
istics of  France,  of  its  civilization,  and  these  qualities  have  made 
her  eminently  fitted  for  marching  at  the  head  of  European  civili- 
zation. 

From  the  Opening  Lecture  of  ' '  The  History  of  Civiliza- 
tion in  France" 

Gentlemen: — Some  of  you  recall  the  object  and  nature  of  the 
course  which  finished  some  months  ago.  It  was  very  general, 
very  rapid.  I  tried  to  make  the  historic  picture  of  European 
civilization  pass  before  your  eyes  in  a  very  short  time.  I  ran,  as 
it  were,  from  peak  to  peak,  limiting  myself  almost  constantly  to 
general  facts  and  assertions,  at  the  risk  of  not  always  being  clearly 
understood,  nor  believed  perhaps. 

Necessity,  as  you  know,  had  imposed  that  method  on  me,  and 
in  spite  of  the  necessity  I  should  have  hardly  resigned  myself  to 
its  inconveniences  had  I  not  foreseen  that  I  could  remedy  it  in  sub- 
sequent courses;  had  I  not  proposed  at  that  time  to  fill  out  some 
day  the  frame  I  sketched  and  make  you  attain  those  general 
results,  which  I  had  the  honor  of  unfolding  to  you,  by  the  same 
way  which  had  led  me  to  them,  by  an  attentive  and  complete 
study  of  the  facts.  This  is  the  design  I  come  to-day  to  try  to 
accomplish. 

Two  methods  of  attaining  this  end  are  offered  to  me.  I  might 
begin  again  the  course  of  last  summer,  and  take  up  again  the  gen- 
eral history  of  European  civilization  in  its  entirety,  relating  in 
detail  what  I  could  present  only  in  a  mass,  going  over  with  slow 
footsteps  the  road  we  almost  breathlessly  traveled.  Or  I  could 
study  the  history  of  civilization  in  one  of  the  principal  countries, 
with  one  of  the  greatest  peoples  of  Europe  where  it  developed, 
and  thus  limit  the  field  of  my  researches  in  order  to  tell  it 
better. 


40  Ten  Frenchmen 

I  decided  to  prefer  this  second  method,  to  abandon  the  general 
history  of  European  civilization  among  all  the  peoples  who  con- 
tributed to  its  formation,  in  "order  to  busy  myself  with  you  on  an 
especial  civilization  only,  which,  in  taking  differences  into  account, 
can  become  for  us  the  image  of  the  great  destiny  of  Europe. 

The  choice  of  method  once  made,  the  choice  of  the  country 
offered  no  difficulty  to  me.  I  took  the  history  of  France,  of 
French  civilization.  I  certainly  shall  not  deny  that  in  making  this 
choice  I  felt  a  feeling  of  pleasure.  All  the  emotions,  all  the  sus- 
ceptibilities of  patriotism  are  legitimate.  The  important  thing  is 
that  they  be  avowed  by  truth,  by  reason.  Some  people  seem  to 
fear  to-day  lest  patriotism  may  greatly  suffer  from  the  extension 
of  sentiments  and  ideas  which  spring  from  the  present  condition 
of  European  civilization.  It  is  predicted  that  it  will  become  ener- 
vated, and  be  lost  in  cosmopolitanism.  I  cannot  share  such  fears. 
The  love  of  one's  fatherland  will  fare  to-day  as  all  opinions,  all 

actions,  all  human  sentiments,  will  fare I  think  I  can  affirm 

that  if  any  other  history  in  Europe  had  seemed  greater  to  me, 
more  instructive,  more  suited  than  that  of  France  to  represent  the 
course  of  general  civilization,  I  should  have  chosen  it.  But  I  am 
right  in  choosing  France.  Independently  of  the  special  interest 
which  her  history  has  for  us,  European  opinion  has  long  pro- 
claimed France  to  be  the  most  civilized  country  of  Europe.  Every 
time  that  national  jealousies  are  not  excited,  when  you  look  for  the 
real  and  disinterested  opinion  of  peoples  in  their  action  and  ideas, 
where  it  is  indirectly  manifested  without  taking  the  form  of  con- 
troversy, you  recognize  that  France  is  the  country  whose  civiliza- 
tion has  appeared  most  complete,  most  communicative,  and  has 
struck  the  imagination  of  Europe  most  vividly 

You  recall,  I  hope,  the  definition  of  civilization  which  I  tried 
to  give  on  opening  last  summer's  course.  I  tried  to  find  the  ideas 
which  the  good,  common  sense  of  men  attached  to  this  word.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  in  the  general  opinion  civilization  consisted 
essentially  in  two  facts,  the  development  of  the  social  state  and 
the  development  of  the  intellectual  state;  the  development  of  the 
external  general  condition  of  man,  and  the  development  of  his 
internal  and  personal  nature.  In  a  word,  the  process  of  perfect- 
ing society  and  humanity. 


Guizot  and  Constitutional  Monarchy       41 

And  not  only  these  two  facts  constitute  civilization,  but  their 
simultaneousness,  their  intimate  and  rapid  union,  their  reciprocal 
action,  are  indispensable  to  its  perfection.  I  have  shown  that  if 
they  do  not  always  happen  together,  if  now  the  development  of 
society,  now  the  development  of  the  individual  man,  proceeds  more 
quickly  and  goes  farther,  they  are  none  the  less  necessary  to  each 
other,  and  soon  or  late  incite  and  lead  on  each  other.  When  they 
go  for  a  long  time,  one  without  the  other,  when  their  union  is 
greatly  delayed,  the  sense  of  a  painful  gap,  of  something  incom- 
plete, of  regret,  seizes  on  the  spectators.  If  a  great  social  ameli- 
oration, a  great  progress  in  material  comfort,  is  revealed  in  a 
people,  without  being  accompanied  by  a  fine  intellectual  develop- 
ment, by  an  analogous  progress  in  the  minds  of  men,  the  social 
amelioration  seems  precarious,  inexplicable,  almost  unlawful 

When,  on  the  contrary,  a  great  development  of  the  intellect 
shows  itself  anywhere,  and  no  social  progress  seems  attached 
to  it,  we  are  surprised  and  disturbed.  You  seem  to  see  a  fine  tree 
which  does  not  bear  fruit,  a  sun  which  does  not  give  heat,  nor 
fertility.  We  are  seized  by  a  kind  of  disdain  for  such  sterile 

ideas,  which  do  not  take  possession  of  the  outside  world 

So  firmly  seated  in  man  is  the  feeling  that  his  duty  here  below  is 
to  have  ideas  embody  themselves  in  facts,  to  reform,  to  regulate 
the  world  he  inhabits,  according  to  the  truth  he  conceives.  So 
closely  united  to  each  other  are  the  two  great  elements  of  civiliza- 
tion, intellectual  and  social  development.  So  true  it  is  that  its 
perfection  consists  not  only  in  their  union,  but  in  their  simultane- 
ousness, in  the  extent,  the  facility,  the  rapidity  with  which  they 
mutually  summon  and  produce  each  other. 

Let  us  now  try  to  ccnsider  the  different  countries  of  Europe 
from  this  standpoint.  Let  us  seek  out  the  particular  character- 
istics of  each  one  of  them,  and  the  extent  to  which  these  charac- 
teristics coincide  with  that  essential,  fundamental,  sublime  fact 
which  now  constitutes  for  us  the  perfection  of  civilization.  In 
this  way  we  shall  succeed  in  discovering  which  of  the  different 
European  civilizations  is  the  most  complete,  the  nearest  akin  to 
the  type  of  civilization  in  general;  which  consequently  has  the 
first  claims  on  our  study,  and  best  represents  the  history  of 
Europe  in  its  entirety. 


42  Ten  Frenchmen 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 

Guizot's  many  writings  have  nearly  all  been  translated  into 
English  and  published  by  various  editors. 

M.  Guizot  in  Private  Lije.  By  his  daughter,  Madame  H.  G. 
de  Witt. 

Guizot.    A.  Bardoux. 

Articles  in  Overland  Monthly,  Vol.  XIII,  pp.  410  ff. 

Littett's  Living  Age,  Vol.  CXXIII,  pp.  749  ff.,  and  Vol. 
CLXIV,  pp.  387  ff- 


FRANgOIS  MARIE   CHARLES  FOURIER 


CHAPTER    III 

FOURIER   AND    SOCIALISM 

[FRANQOIS  MARIE  CHARLES  FOURIER,  born  at  Besancon, 
April  7,  1772;  served  in  the  cavalry,  1794-1796;  died  at  Paris, 
October  IO,  1837.  Principal  works:  "Theory  of  the  Four 
Movements  and  the  General  Destinies,"  1808;  "Treatise  on 
Domestic  Rural  Association  or  Industrial  Attraction"  (later 
called  "Theory  of  Universal  Unity"),  1822;  "The  New  Indus- 
trial and  Social  World,"  1829.] 

During  the  last  half  of  the  eighteenth  century  discon- 
tent with  the  social  conditions  existing  in  England  and  on 
the  Continent  was  rapidly  increasing.  In  a  famous  essay 
on  the  effects  of  progress  on  the  human  race,  Jean  Jacques 
Rousseau  had  bitterly  attacked  the  works  of  civilization  as 
detrimental  to  both  goodness  and  happiness.  Art  and 
industry,  instead  of  strengthening  the  virtues  of  man, 
were  rapidly  multiplying  his  vices.  Private  property  was 
based  on  plunder.  The  growth  of  communities  only 
widened  the  gulf  between  the  strong,  the  rich,  and  the 
weak,  the  poor.  No  relief  was  to  be  hoped  for  from 
institutions  which  had  grown  out  of  the  so-called  develop- 
ment of  the  world.  To  bring  back  justice  and  peace 
these  institutions  must  be  destroyed,  and  their  works 
must  perish  with  them.  Mankind  was  originally  happy. 
All  things  were  then  held  in  common.  Envy  was  absent, 
and  violence.  Restore  this  Golden  Age  by  returning  to 
nature.  Leave  the  cities,  dwell  in  the  country,  cultivate 
the  soil,  establish  pure  democracies.  So  Rousseau  argued. 

43 


44  Ten  Frenchmen 

The  French  Revolution  was  one  answer  to  his  plea.  It 
made  all  men  equal  before  the  law.  It  could  not  or  did 
not  change  their  natures,  nor  did  it  touch  the  principles 
of  individual  ownership.  When  its  agitation  had  ceased, 
and  men  could  take  an  account  of  what  it  had  accom- 
plished, it  was  seen  that  the  essential  causes  of  social 
inequality  had  in  no  way  been  overthrown  by  its  political 
reforms.  So  far  as  the  general  bearing  of  its  results  were 
concerned,  the  world's  future  was  to  resemble  the  world's 
past. 

Many  who  had  hoped  for  some  kind  of  a  Utopia  on 
earth  were  discouraged  by  the  failure  of  such  a  vast  effort. 
Their  exaltation  sank  back  into  indifference  or  bitterness. 
Others  were  inspired  by  the  failure  to  seek  other  means. 
The  great  mathematician  Condorcet  took  refuge  in  opti- 
mism, and  wrote,  while  in  hiding  from  the  agents  of  the 
Terror,  a  treatise  on  human  perfectibility,  in  which  he 
defends  the  civilization  that  Rousseau  had  scourged,  and 
deduces  from  the  lessons  of  the  past  that  inequality  of 
privilege  between  nations  and  classes  will  gradually  disap- 
pear, and  the  individual  will  come  at  last  into  complete 
moral,  intellectual,  and  physical  freedom.  We  now  call 
this  view  of  the  world's  destinies  the  theory  of  evolution. 
On  the  other  hand,  Baboeuf  could  not  await  the  tardy 
steps  of  justice.  Allying  himself  with  like-minded  asso- 
ciates, he  plotted  to  seize  the  government  and  found  by 
force  a  communistic  state  which  should  realize  to  some 
degree  the  theories  of  Rousseau. 

Another  consequence  of  the  fiasco  of  the  Revolution 
was  the  formulation  of  doctrines  for  the  production  and 
distribution  of  wealth,  which  have  since  been  defined  by 
the  term  "socialism."  They  are  to  be  distinguished  from 


Fourier  and  Socialism  45 

the  programs  of  the  reformers  antecedent  to  the  Revolu- 
tion by  their  acceptance  of  the  results  of  the  world's 
labors.  They  start  with  the  industrial  conditions  of  mod- 
ern life,  so  stimulated  by  the  inventions  of  the  end  of  the 
eighteenth  century  and  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth,  by 
which  manufacturing  and  the  mechanical  trades  passed 
through  a  veritable  renaissance.  They  would  adapt  them- 
selves to  these  new  conditions  by  improving  them,  not  by 
destroying  them.  In  France  the  leading  expounders  of 
these  doctrines  are  Fourier  and  Saint  Simon.  Like  the 
men  of  their  day,  and  of  the  generations  since  their  day, 
these  expounders  were  primarily  interested  in  the  physical 
sciences.  They  sought  in  science  a  universal  truth  which 
should  solve  all  special  problems  of  labor  and  life.  Saint 
Simon,  later  in  date,  but  more  popular,  based  his  system 
on  charity  and  merit.  All  social  institutions  should  aim 
at  the  improvement  of  the  poorest  class.  All  the  mem- 
bers of  society  should  work  with  brain  or  hand,  and  each 
laborer  should  be  paid  according  to  his  merit  or  capacity. 
Saint  Simonism  is  also  deeply  religious.  Its  principle  is 
brotherly  love. 

Fourierism  is  much  more  complex  and  less  popular. 
Its  founder,  Charles  Fourier,  was  born  at(  Besancon,  in 
eastern  France,  in  1772.  His  father  was  a  dealer  in  cloth, 
of  some  means,  and  his  son,  though  orphaned  of  him  in 
1781,  received  the  education  of  his  time,  and  won  prizes 
at  school  for  Latin  composition.  He  also  showed  unusual 
inclination  for  the  study  of  geography,  was  passionately 
fond  of  flowers,  and  possessed  much  aptitude  for  music. 
He  himself  wished  to  make  engineering  his  vocation.  But 
his  plebeian  birth  forbade,  and  after  some  years  of  travel 
he  invested  his  patrimony  in  foreign  wares  and  started  in 


46  Ten  Frenchmen 

business  at  Lyons.  This  was  in  1793.  The  attack  on 
that  town  by  the  government  troops  a  few  weeks  later 
consumed  his  cotton  bales  in  works  of  defense,  and  his 
rice,  sugar,  and  coffee  in  support  of  the  defenders.  He 
lost  his  property  and  almost  lost  his  life,  escaping  from 
Lyons  only  to  find  himself  imprisoned  at  Besanfon.  The 
conscription  authorized  by  the  Convention  that  same  year 
gathered  him  in.  He  served  as  cavalryman  from  June, 
1794,  to  January,  1796,  when  he  was  retired  for  reasons 
of  health.  Now  he  could  give  himself  up  to  plans  of 
social  reform  which  had  long  been  germinating  in  his  brain. 
It  is  said  that  the  evils  of  existing  conditions  had  been 
impressed  upon  him  when  still  a  young  boy.  He  had  told 
the  truth  to  some  of  his  father's  customers  regarding  his 
wares,  and  had  been  punished  for  it.  He  was  then  but 
five  years  of  age.  As  a  consequence,  in  the  language  of 
his  disciple  and  eulogist,  Victor  Considerant,  "he  had 

taken  Hannibal's  oath  against  business This  oath, 

which  he  kept  so  well,  is  the  origin  of  his  discovery  [sys- 
tem]; for  it  was  in  seeking  the  means  of  introducing  truth 
and  loyalty  into  the  mechanism  of  trade  that  he  reached 
in  later  years  the  Rural  Association,  the  great  Seriary  Law, 
and  the  immortal  theorem  of  the  Attractions  Proportional 
to  the  Destinies."  This  early  conception  of  the  world  of 
affairs  was  strengthened  in  1799  by  an  errand  he  was 
forced  to  perform  for  the  firm  which  employed  him  as  a 
commercial  traveler.  He  had  to  order  a  cargo  of  rice 
thrown  overboard  in  the  harbor  of  Marseilles,  because  the 
firm  in  question  had  allowed  it  to  rot  rather  than  break  a 
"corner"  in  grain,  which  they  themselves  had  artificially 
created.  This  wanton  destruction  of  food  almost  under 
the  eyes  of  a  starving  population  marks  the  culmination 


Fourier  and  Socialism  47 

of  Fourier's  resolution  to  exert  all  his  energies  to  put  a 
stop  to  crimes  against  society  committed  under  the  name 
of  trade.  For  several  years  yet  he  supported  himself  by 
the  brokerage  and  commission  business,  occupied  his  spare 
moments  with  the  preparation  of  his  economic  views  and 
wrote  articles  on  the  events  of  the  day.  One  such  article 
in  the  Bulletin  de  Lyon,  of  December  17,  1803,  shows 
how  Europe  was  fast  coming  into  the  control  of  France, 
Russia,  Austria,  and  Prussia.  The  last,  and  weakest,  it 
argues,  would  become  the  victim  of  the  other  three.  Then 
Austria  would  be  dismembered.  And  finally,  either  France 
or  Russia  would  engulf  the  other  and  become  the  master 
of  the  world.  If  France  did  not  give  heed  to  her  ways 
the  victor  would  be  Russia.  This  article  attracted  the 
attention  of  Bonaparte,  and  its  tenor  bears  a  curious  like- 
ness to  the  policy  he  afterwards  inaugurated. 

In  1808  Fourier's  ideas  of  social  reform  appeared  in 
print  under  the  title  of  "The  Theory  of  the  Four  Move- 
ments and  the  General  Destinies. ' '  The  caption  is  formid- 
able. The  contents  are  no  less  so.  The  "movements" 
are  social,  animal,  organic,  and  material,  of  which  the 
first  three,  we  are  told,  are  new  to  mankind.  The  fourth, 
the  "movements"  of  the  material  world,  had  been  discov- 
ered by  Newton,  and  their  laws  had  been  revealed  by 
Leibnitz.  Fourier  had  discovered  the  laws  of  the  other 
three,  a  discovery  which  seems  to  have  been  directly  pro- 
voked by  the  destruction  of  the  rice  at  Marseilles.  The 
failure  of  the  French  Revolution  to  benefit  mankind  had 
led  him  to  consider  the  possibilities  of  a  new  social  science 
which  should  do  away  with  "poverty,  lack  of  work, 
the  success  of  trickery,  maritime  piracies,  commercial 
monopoly,  the  slave  trade,  and  many  other  misfortunes 


48  Ten  Frenchmen 

which  need  not  be  named,  but  which  cause  us  to  wonder 
whether  civilized  industry  is  not  a  calamity  invented  by 
God  to  chastise  the  human  race."  To  find  the  natural 
order  of  things  he  adopted  the  principle  of  universal 
doubt,  which  Descartes  had  once  "partially"  used, 
together  with  the  principle  of  the  rejection  of  all  known 
theories.  To  test  his  method  he  began  with  the  consider- 
ation of  "rural  association,"  a  means  of  land  cultivation 
agreeable  to  all  concerned  in  it,  and  "the  indirect  sup- 
pression of  insular  commercial  monopoly."  The  solution 
of  the  first  problem  entails  the  solution  of  the  second. 
By  steadily  working  on  this  question  Fourier  saw  that  the 
law  of  the  material  universe,  formulated  by  Newton,  the 
"law  of  attraction,"  as  he  terms  it,  was  the  true  law  of 
the  social,  animal,  and  organic  world  as  well.  Give  this 
law  free  play  and  every  man  will  desire  to  work.  He  will 
be  drawn  to  it  by  his  natural  propensities.  "Emulation, 
self-love,  and  other  motives  compatible  with  self-interest" 
will  spur  him  on. 

Exploitation  in  common  will  prove  that  the  net  profits 
of  labor  will  be  increased.  Take  a  village,  for  instance. 
Assume  that  it  holds  one  thousand  people  cooperating 
with  one  another.  Each  has  some  special  aptitude.  The 
men  of  brain  will  perfect  the  instruments  of  toil.  One 
barn  well  cared  for  will  replace  three  hundred  poorly 
kept.  One  laundry  will  do  the  work  of  three  hundred. 
The  number  of  fires  necessary  can  be  reduced  to  three  or 
four.  "They  will  send  to  the  city  but  one  milkwoman 
with  a  barrel  of  milk  hung  on  cart  wheels,  and  so  will  save 
a  half-day's  work  of  one  hundred  milkwomen  carrying  one 
hundred  jugs  of  milk."  Hence  a  greater  profit  for  the 
community  by  this  cooperation,  and  consequently  a 


Fourier  and  Socialism  49 

greater  gain  for  each  individual  in  it.  With  greater  gain 
a  greater  control  of  the  good  things  of  life.  And  the 
conclusion  here  reached  by  Fourier  gives  the  substance  of 
his  doctrine:  "To  summarize,  this  theory  of  Rural  Asso- 
ciation, which  is  going  to  change  the  lot  of  the  human 
race,  flatters  the  passions  which  are  common  to  all  men, 
and  allures  them  by  the  seductions  of  profit  and  pleas- 
ures; this  is  the  guaranty  of  its  success  with  savages  and 
barbarians  as  well  as  with  civilized  peoples,  for  the  pas- 
sions are  the  same  everywhere." 

These  statements  are  perfectly  clear.  Fourier's  "dis- 
covery" was  the  fact  that  the  emotions  or  "passions"  are 
the  mainspring  of  human  action.  "The  passions,"  he 
says,  "which  we  have  thought  hostile  to  concord  .... 
tend  only  to  concord,  to  the  social  unity  from  which  we 
thought  them  so  far  removed;  but  they  can  be  harmon- 
ized only  so  far  as  they  develop  regularly  in  the  Progress- 
ive Series  or  Series  of  Groups  of  people.  Outside  of  this 
mechanism  the  passions  are  but  unchained  tigers."  And 
he  illustrates  by  showing  how  mankind  is  led  along  by  the 
love  of  riches  and  pleasures.  Instead  of  repressing  the 
passions  he  will  increase  their  intensity  and  their  control 
of  the  individual  by  keeping  them  in  a  constant  state  of 
tension.  He  will  excite  envy  by  proving  that  the  men  of 
his  "associations"  live  better  and  have  more  physical 
enjoyment  than  those  outside  of  their  circle.  "When  men 
notice  that  residence  in  a  Phalanx  (the  name  I  shall  give  to 
the  association  which  cultivates  a  district  [Canlon])  affords 
such  fine  fare  that  you  have  a  service  three  times  as  delicate 
and  abundant  for  one-third  the  expense  of  a  private 
table  ....  besides  avoiding  the  trouble  of  buying  pro- 
visions and  preparing  them;  when,  besides,  they  see  that 


5<D  Ten  Frenchmen 

in  the  relations  between  the  members  of  the  Series  you 
never  experience  deception,  and  that  the  people  who  are 
so  false  and  boorish  in  civilization  become  surprisingly 
truthful  and  refined  in  the  Series,  they  will  come  to  hate 
private  households,  cities,  civilization;  ....  they  will 
want  to  join  a  Phalanx  of  Series  and  dwell  in  its  building." 

This  theory  of  association  led  Fourier  to  the  discovery 
of  two  new  sciences:  One  was  the  theory  of  passionate 
Attraction,  capable  of  mathematical  statement,  the  laws 
of  which  are  in  every  way  like  those  of  material  attrac- 
tion as  explained  by  Newton  and  Leibnitz.  They  prove 
that  there  is  "unity  in  the  system  of  movement  for  the 
material  world  and  for  the  spiritual."  This  theory  in 
turn  led  to  the  discovery  of  the  other  fixed  science:  "the 
Analogy  of  the  four  movements — material,  organic,  animal, 
and  social — or  the  Analogy  of  the  modifications  of  matter 
with  the  mathematical  theory  of  the  passions  of  man  and 
the  animals."  These  sciences  pointed  the  way  to  others 
which  embraced  the  whole  domain  of  human  activity  and 
learning.  By  their  harmony  and  unity  the  riches  in  reach 
of  man  will  be  multiplied.  All  classes  of  society  will  be 
sheltered  from  want.  Wealth  is  the  goal  of  humanity. 
The  Theory  of  the  Destinies  will  assure  it  this  opulence. 
Our  present  civilization  is  a  scourge  which  properly 
belongs  to  the  primitive  periods  of  existence.  The  pride 
or  the  negligence  of  the  philosophers  had  already  unneces- 
sarily prolonged  it  two  thousand  and  three  hundred  years. 
All  the  grades  of  savage,  patriarchal,  barbarous,  and 
civilized  society  are  but  steps  towards  "a  better  social 
order,  the  Order  of  the  Progressive  Series  which  is  the 
Industrial  Destiny  of  man." 

To  further  illustrate  this  progression  from  the  unfin- 


Fourier  and  Socialism  5 1 

ished  to  the  complete,  Fourier  draws  a  picture  of  "the 
vegetable  career  of  the  globe,"  which  he  embraces  in  a 
cycle  of  eighty  thousand  years.  The  first  five  thousand, 
or  one-sixteenth  of  the  whole,  he  ranges  under  the  head 
of  Ascending  Chaos,  or  the  Reign  of  Ignorance  and  Phi- 
losophy, Collision  of  the  Passions  through  the  Lack  of 
Social  Art.  This  era  is  in  turn  divided  into  seven  periods, 
of  which  Civilization  is  the  fifth,  "Guaranteeism"  the 
sixth,  and  "Outlined  Series"  the  seventh.  Here  we  get  a 
glimpse  of  the  "dawn  of  happiness."  This  dawn  becomes 
full  day  in  the  next  era  of  thirty-five  thousand  years,  or 
seven-sixteenths  of  the  whole,  classed  under  the  head  of 
Ascending  Harmony  or  Social  Light,  Vigor  of  the  Globe 
and  the  Creatures,  Development  and  Interlinking  of  all 
the  Passions.  This  era  is  subdivided  into  nine  periods, 
one  of  the  Simple  Series  Combined,  seven  of  the  Com- 
posed Ascending  Series,  which  are  distinguished  by  seven 
"Harmonic  Creations,"  at  intervals  of  four  thousand 
years  each,  and  the  ninth  of  the  First  Septigeneric  Crea- 
tion and  Ascending  Plenitude.  Following  this  creation 
comes  the  Pivotal  or  Amphiharmonic  Period,  of  about 
eight  thousand  years,  which  is  the  Apogee  of  Happiness. 
In  this  era  of  thirty-five  thousand  years,  directly  after  its 
first  period,  the  "Boreal  Crown"  comes  into  being,  and 
"the  seas  are  disinfected  and  perfumed  by  the  boreal  fluid, " 
while  the  Crown  sheds  aromatic  dew  upon  the  earth. 

In  the  next  cycle  of  thirty-five  thousand  years,  the 
cycle  of  Descending  Harmony,  our  planet  will  enter  on 
an  epoch  of  decline,  which  is  divided  into  nine  periods. 
It  will  witness  in  the  first  period  a  Second  Septigeneric 
Creation  and  Descending  Plenitude,  in  the  next  seven,  of 
the  Composed  Descending  Series,  seven  more  Harmonic 


52  Ten  Frenchmen 

Creations,  during  which  the  seas  will  return  to  their  origi- 
nal taste  through  failure  of  the  boreal  fluid,  and  the  aro- 
matic dew  will  cease  to  fall  because  of  the  exhaustion  of 
the  Boreal  Crown.  In  the  ninth  period  the  Boreal  Crown 
will  become  extinct.  As  from  the  first  to  the  second  cycle 
the  world  rose  from  chaos  to  harmony,  so  at  the  end  of 
the  third  it  falls  from  harmony  into  chaos,  and  its  last 
cycle  of  five  thousand  years,  divided  into  'seven  periods, 
and  called  Descending  Chaos  (General  Overturn  by  the 
Eighteenth  Creation,  Clash  of  Passions  because  of  Failure 
of  Luxury),  repeats  in  inverse  order  the  stages  of  the  first 
cycle,  and  ends  in  the  physical  death  and  dissolution  of 
the  globe.  The  first  two  cycles  are  grouped  together 
under  the  head  of  Ascending  Vibration.  The  Apogee  of 
Happiness  separates  them  from  the  last  two,  of  Descend- 
ing Vibration. 

Thus  Fourier  mixes  geology  and  ethics.  Harmony  in 
the  one  science  is  reflected  in  the  other.  The  cooperation 
of  mankind  in  the  production  of  wealth  under  the  guid- 
ance of  its  passions  changes,  in  the  long  run,  the  nature  of 
the  earth's  surface.  Two  ages  of  Combined  Order  will 
give  birth  to  the  Boreal  Crown,  a  luminous  ring  which 
will  turn  the  North  Pole  into  an  arable  region  whose  fer- 
tility will  endure  for  seventy  thousand  years.  So  with  the 
laws  of  the  dependence  of  human  progress  on  mathe- 
matics. "Without  this  dependence  there  would  be  no 
harmony  in  nature  and  God  would  be  unjust,"  for  he 
would  be  arbitrary  in  his  dealings. 

The  exposition  of  these  views,  as  might  be  inferred 
from  the  outline  already  given,  offers  a  mixture  of  fact 
and  fancy  which  is  perplexing  rather  than  interesting.  At 
times  Fourier's  criticisms  of  the  waste  of  our  present 


Fourier  and  Socialism  53 

social  methods  impress  us  with  their  justness.  His  rem- 
edy of  cooperation  appeals  to  us  most  strongly.  But 
directly  afterwards  he  starts  upon  a  line  of  argument  and 
illustrations  which  seem  to  be  the  empty  vagaries  of  a  dis- 
ordered brain.  Clearly  his  strength  lies  in  his  critical 
remarks.  His  constructive  powers  are  questionable.  His 
jumble  of  science  and  morals,  and  his  claims  of  the  influ- 
ence of  the  fraternity  of  man  on  the  productiveness  of 
matter,  calls  his  very  sanity  into  question. 

In  the  explanation  of  the  meaning  of  his  tabular  view 
of  the  world's  life,  and  the  explanation  of  his  terms,  with 
which  he  continues  his  treatise,  there  is  the  same  mixture 
of  sense  and  nonsense.  Take,  as  an  example,  his  ideas  of 
the  Boreal  Crown.  They  are  based  on  the  assumption 
that  the  earth  will  give  birth  to  new  creations,  but  these 
creations  will  not  begin  until  humanity  has  reached  the 
Simple  Combined  Series  of  the  Ascending  Harmony.  By 
that  time  the  increasing  concord  of  the  passions  will  have 
allured  into  domestic  use  such  wild  animals  as  the  zebra 
and  ostrich.  The  earth  will  have  been  brought  under 
cultivation  as  far  as  the  sixty-fifth  parallel  of  latitude.  The 
temperature  of  the  planet  will  have  been  raised.  "The 
Aurora  Borealis,  more  and  more  frequent  in  its  recur- 
rence, will  finally  fix  itself  at  the  pole,  and  enlarge  into  the 
shape  of  a  crown.  The  fluid  which  to-day  is  only  lumi- 
nous will  acquire  a  new  property,  that  of  distributing 
warmth  with  light."  Therefore  the  heat  of  the  polar 
regions  will  exceed  that  of  the  temperate  zone,  and  will 
therefore  favorably  affect  the  temperature  of  that  zone. 
Excess  of  cold  will  be  prevented  as  well  as  excess  of  heat. 
Two  harvests  will  become  the  rule.  Late  springs  and 
early  winters  will  not  be  known.  Another  result  of  the 


54  Ten  Frenchmen 

action  of  the  Boreal  Crown  will  be  to  change  the  taste  of 
sea  water,  "by  decomposing  or  precipitating  the  bitu- 
minous particles  through  the  expansion  of  a  borealic  citric 
acid.  This  fluid  combined  with  salt  will  give  sea  water 
the  taste  of  a  kind  of  lemonade  which  we  call  aigre  de 
ctdre."  This  water  can  then  be  easily  distilled  and  used 
on  shipboard.  It  will  also  give  birth  to  new  sea  animals 
which  can  be  taught  to  draw  ships  and  fish,  while 
it  will  kill  the  useless  and  destructive  denizens  of  the 
ocean,  "those  infamous  creatures,  images  of  the  fury  of 
our  passions,  which  are  represented  by  the  deadly  wars 
of  so  many  monsters." 

So  much  for  the  nonsense,  which  goes  on  and  on.  But 
in  the  very  midst  of  it  we  meet  this  striking  passage, 
prophecy  of  the  future.  The  natural  result  of  the  heat  of 
the  Boreal  Crown  will  be  to  make  the  northern  seas  and 
their  tributary  rivers,  now  closed  by  ice,  navigable.  God 
has  intended  this,  as  we  see  by  the  grouping  of  the  conti- 
nents about  the  North  Pole.  However,  "we  might  com- 
plain that  God  has  carried  the  Magellaic  point  [Cape 
Horn]  too  far,  which  causes  a  temporary  obstacle  [to 
commerce] :  but  his  intention  is  that  this  route  be  aban- 
doned, and  channels  navigable  for  large  vessels  be  made  at 
the  Isthmuses  of  Suez  and  Panama.  These  works,  and  so 
many  others  which  terrify  the  minds  of  the  civilized,  will 
be  but  children's  games  for  the  industrial  armies  of  the 
Spherical  Hierarchy." 

The  social  system  of  Guaranteeism  which  follows  on 
the  present  period  of  civilization  is  thus  defined:  "It  still 
preserves  family  life,  marriage,  and  the  principal  attributes 
of  the  philosophic  system  [the  present]:  but  it  already 
reduces  revolutions  and  indigence  to  a  marked  degree." 


Fourier  and  Socialism  55 

Civilization  has  been  responsible  for  many  evils:  "There 
are  other  calamities  which  would  spring  from  it  and  which 
the  philosophers  can  in  no  way  foresee;  such  is  Commer- 
cial Feudalism,  which  would  not  have  been  less  odious 
than  the  reign  of  the  Clubs  [of  the  Terror].  It  would 
have  been  the  result  of  the  influence  which  the  commer- 
cial spirit  daily  acquires  over  our  social  system. "  Fourier 
will  furnish  by  his  theory  the  means  to  avert  this  new 
tyranny. 

The  passions  which  we  should  cultivate,  rather  than 
repress  as  the  moralists  tell  us,  because  they  are  in  con- 
sonance with  nature,  include  "the  five  appetites  of  the 
senses  which  exercise  more  or  less  sovereignty  on  the 
individual" — taste,  touch,  sight,  smell,  hearing — "the  four 
simple  appetites  of  the  soul,  to  wit :  the  Group  of  Friend- 
ship, the  Group  of  Love,  the  Group  of  Paternity  or  Fam- 
ily, the  Group  of  Ambition  or  Corporation,"  all  of  which 
are  known  to  these  same  moralists,  "although  they  possess 
but  very  imperfect  ideas  regarding  the  four  principal 
ones,"  and  finally  three  others  discovered  by  Fourier  and 
now  revealed  by  him  under  the  collective  name  of  "dis- 
tributive" passions.  These  twelve  passions  naturally 
divide  into  three  groups.  The  first  five,  of  the  senses, 
form  the  Group  of  Luxury.  The  next  four,  "called 
affective,"  form  "the  Groupism  or  desire  for  Groups." 
The  last  three  form  "the  Seriism  or  desire  for  Series." 
They  all  combine  and  unite  in  "Unityism,  a  passion  which 
comprises  the  three  primary  branches  and  is  the  result  of 
their  combined  development."  This  Unityism  "is  the 
tendency  of  the  individual  to  harmonize  his  happiness 
with  the  happiness  of  all  that  surrounds  him  and  all  the 
human  race,  now  so  hateful  to  him.  It  is  a  limitless 


56  Ten  Frenchmen 

philanthropy,  a  universal  good  will  which  can  be  devel- 
oped only  when  the  entire  human  race  shall  be  rich,  free, 
and  just,  conformable  to  the  three  groupings  of  passions 
under  Luxury,  Groupism,  and  Seriism,  which  demand, 
as  a  first  development,  graduated  riches  for  the  five 
senses,  as  a  second,  absolute  liberty  for  the  four  "affect- 
ive" groups,  as  a  third,  distributive  justice  for  the  "dis- 
tributive passions."  These  last  are  not  easily  named. 
After  a  few  trials  Fourier  settles  down  on  Dissident  or 
Cabalist,  Variant  or  Papillonne,  Engrenant  or  Composit. 
He  also  calls  Unityism  "Harmonism." 

In  other  words,  Fourier  argues  that  all  our  passions 
should  be  given  free  rein.  Any  other  course  is  contrary 
to  nature,  and  with  him,  as  with  Rousseau,  nature  is  the 
model.  By  allowing  them  full  play  they  will  give  rise  to 
higher  forms  of  passion,  create  new  ones,  and  eventually 
lead  to  the  perfect  state  of  harmony  and  happiness.  Here 
Fourier  becomes  the  ally  of  the  theory  of  human  perfecti- 
bility put  forward  by  Condorcet.  It  will  be  noticed  that 
he  demands  "absolute  liberty"  for  the  four  "affective" 
passions,  which  are  Friendship,  Love,  Paternity  or  Fam- 
ily, Ambition  or  Corporation.  He  scouts  the  notion  of 
duty  "which  has  no  relation  to  nature;  duty  comes  from 
men,  Attraction  comes  from  God.  Now,  if  one  wishes 
to  know  God's  views  he  must  study  Attraction,  nature 
only,  without  any  acceptation  of  duty,  which  varies  in 
each  age  and  in  each  region,  while  the  nature  of  passion 
has  been  and  will  remain  invariable  among  all  peoples." 
The  practical  result  of  this  theory  is  obvious.  Friendship 
should  be  free,  love  should  be  free,  paternity  free,  ambi- 
tion free.  That  is,  all  ties  of  marriage  and  family  should 
be  broken,  for  true  attraction  does  not  belong  to  compui- 


Fourier  and  Socialism  57 

sion  or  restraint.  Children  do  not  understand  paternal 
authority,  often  abused  as  it  is,  and  when  grown  they 
notice  the  discrepancy  between  its  theory  and  practice. 
Hence  a  lessening  of  affection  on  the  part  of  the  child  to 
the  parent.  The  same  reasoning  applies  to  the  marriage 
relationship,  where  the  ideal  and  the  facts  are  so  discord- 
ant as  often  to  produce  repulsion.  But  it  is  by  attraction 
that  nature  governs,  and  Fourier  invites  us  "to  the  analy- 
sis of  that  Passionate  Attraction,  which  appears  vicious  to 
us  because  we  are  ignorant  of  its  goal." 

The  pages  on  family  relations,  husband  and  wife,  chil- 
dren and  parents,  are  filled  with  the  same  mingling  of 
sound  criticism  of  the  present  conditions  and  fanciful 
assumptions  of  the  blessings  of  a  pure  state  of  nature, 
which  we  have  already  noted  in  the  chapters  on  physical 
geography  and  ethics.  The  present  isolated  household 
with  its  permanent  marriage  relations  will  give  way  to  the 
Progressive  Household  of  the  seventh  period  of  the  "Out- 
lined Series."  Some  one  hundred  persons  of  unequal 
fortune  will  be  grouped  together  as  a  "Tribe"  in  one 
building,  eighty  of  one  sex,  the  employers,  and  twenty 
domestics  of  both  sexes.  The  eighty  will  be  approxi- 
mately divided  into  nine  groups  of  nine  people  each. 
Each  group  will  eat  at  a  different  hour  or  in  a  different 
room  in  order  to  avoid  uniformity.  Each  Tribe  will  exer- 
cise three  compatible  trades.  Each  member  will  contrib- 
ute his  share  of  the  capital,  large  or  small.  The  buildings 
of  the  various  Tribes  will  communicate  with  one  another 
so  that  you  may  pass  into  the  successive  buildings  without 
fear  of  heat  or  cold,  rain  or  snow. 

Suppose  there  are  six  Tribes,  three  of  men  and  three 
of  women.  Emulation  will  arise.  The  poorer  tribe  will 


58  Ten  Frenchmen 

seek  to  gain  as  much  wealth  as  the  richer  tribe.  Expen- 
ses of  the  state  administrations  will  decrease  and  the  waste 
of  housekeeping  will  diminish.  Therefore,  the  same 
private  income  will  purchase  more  comforts  or  luxuries. 
An  esprit  de  corps,  jealousy  for  the  honor  of  each  Tribe, 
will  cause  coarseness  and  uncleanliness  to  disappear.  The 
vexations  of  domestic  service — which  are  principally  due 
to  three  causes,  low  wages,  incompatibility  of  disposition, 
and  multiplicity  of  functions — will  cease,  because  fewer 
servants  will  be  required  than  in  isolated  households,  the 
servants  can  choose  the  employers  they  like  best  and  also 
the  kind  of  employment  they  prefer.  Old  people,  now  a 
burden,  will  find  vocations  suited  to  their  years,  and  help- 
ful to  the  Tribe,  and  women  who  dislike  housekeeping  will 
be  relieved  by  those  who  like  it.  The  men  also  will 
choose  the  occupations  they  prefer.  Division  of  labor 
according  to  taste  will  replace  the  jack-at-all-trades  neces- 
sity of  the  isolated  household.  Close  upon  the  sketch  of 
this  possible  existence  follows  a  graduated  plan  for  the 
gratification  of  the  animal  passions  and  the  propagation 
of  the  race,  by  which  women  may  choose  husbands,  para- 
mours, and  lovers  at  will.  As  the  choice  lies  with  woman, 
she  will  rise  in  the  social  scale.  This  is  one  of  the  objects 
of  Fourier's  system.  In  his  own  words,  "the  extension  of 
the  privileges  of  women  is  the  general  principle  of  all  social 
progress." 

If  liberty  in  family  relations  is  entirely  desirable,  so  is 
liberty  in  business,  the  passion  of  Ambition  or  Corpora- 
tion. The  present  system  "subordinates  the  social  body 
to  a  class  of  parasitical  and  unproductive  agents,  who  are 
the  merchants."  In  the  Sixth  Period,  of  Guaranteeism, 
this  class  is  to  be  subordinated  "to  the  interests  of  the  pro- 


Fourier  and  Socialism  59 

ducers,  manufacturers,  cultivators,  and  proprietors." 
The  merchant  to-day  is  independent.  The  system  of  free 
competition  prevails.  Under  this  system  the  social  body 
is  a  prey  to  bankruptcy,  to  "corners"  in  the  necessaries 
of  life  (Fourier's  experience  at  Marseilles  in  1799),  which 
"doubles  the  price  of  a  raw  material  of  which  there  is  no 
real  scarcity,"  and  thereby  disorganizes  manufacturing, 
merely  in  order  to  enrich  a  coalition  of  gamblers.  A 
third  despoiler  is  found  in  brokerage,  which  plunges  finan- 
cial markets  into  panics.  And  a  fourth  is  the  undue  mul- 
tiplication of  middlemen,  of  agents  who  stand  between  the 
producer  and  consumer,  and  who  for  the  most  part  are 
ruined  by  their  own  numerical  excess,  after  a  fierce  strug- 
gle which  is  productive  of  deceit  and  disorder.  As  a 
bulwark  against  this  state  of  anarchy  the  period  of  Civili- 
zation is  evolving  commercial  feudalism,  or  the  restriction 
of  trade  to  the  control  of  a  few  large  companies.  Thus 
civilization  rushes  from  one  extreme  to  the  other,  never 
resting  at  a  golden  mean.  The  antidote  to  all  these  con- 
tradictions and  this  social  waste  is  found  in  the  Societary 
Competition  of  the  period  of  Guaranteeism,  which  carries 
on  the  great  corporations  "without  constraint  or  exclusive 
privileges,  economizes  capital,  restores  the  middlemen  to 
labor,  and  subjects  business  to  taxation."  An  epilogue  on 
the  Social  Chaos  of  the  World,  eloquent  and  hortatory, 
ends  this  singular  treatise. 

No  attention  was  paid  to  Fourier's  "Theory  of  the 
Four  Movements."  It  seems  to  have  attracted  but  very 
few  readers.  The  wars  of  the  Empire  did  not  favor  the 
propagation  of  humanitarian  theories;  or  it  may  be  that 
such  an  attack  on  civilization  was  confused  with  Rous- 
seau's, and  the  outline  of  the  advance  of  mankind  with 


60  Ten  Frenchmen 

Condorcet's  picture.  Fourier  continued  to  live  on  in 
obscurity,  gaining  now  and  then  an  adherent,  notably  Just 
Muiron,  in  1814.  In  1816  he  retired  to  the  small  town 
of  Belley  to  the  house  of  a  sister,  and  there  gave  himself 
up  to  elaborating  his  discovery  and  his  theory.  In  1822 
his  "Treatise  on  Domestic  Rural  Association"  saw  the 
light,  or  as  he  preferred  to  call  it,  the  "Theory  of  Uni- 
versal Unity." 

It  is  quite  out  of  the  question  to  analyze  this  book. 
The  ideas  of  the  "Theory  of  the  Four  Movements"  are 
taken  up  again  and  commentated,  now  with  a  free  use  of 
musical  terms  as  well  as  mathematical.  Economic  and 
philosophical  questions  are  touched  on  and  summarized  in 
bewildering  confusion.  Criticisms  of  society,  attacks  on 
other  social  reformers,  answers  to  criticisms  of  his  own 
views,  are  thrown  together  in  a  most  haphazard  manner. 
The  designs  of  God  in  creating  the  world,  the  immortality 
of  the  soul,  the  training  of  children  and  youth,  past,  pres- 
ent, and  future,  take  up  quite  as  much  space  as  the  chap- 
ters on  passionate  attraction  and  cooperative  association. 
According  to  Pellarin,  his  biographer,  Fourier  would  have 
based  his  "Treatise"  on  the  dictum  of  the  German  phi- 
losopher, Schelling,  that  "the  universe  is  made  according 
to  the  pattern  of  the  human  soul."  But  whatever  the 
subject  and  the  digression,  the  author  rarely  proceeds  far 
in  his  discussion  without  recurring  to  his  main  point  of 
Industrial  Attraction,  which  makes  work  a  pleasure,  and 
to  its  embodiment  in  a  laboring  household  of  four  hundred 
to  sixteen  hundred  souls. 

The  public  ear  proved  quite  as  deaf  to  this  longer 
harangue  as  it  had  to  the  shorter  one  of  1808.  Nor  did 
a  summary  of  it  in  1823  have  any  greater  success.  No 


Fourier  and  Socialism  61 

one  came  forward  with  the  capital  sufficient  to  put  the 
main  plan  to  a  test.  Fourier  spent  some  years  in  a  vain 
search  for  this  desired  capitalist,  and  then  losing  hope  for 
the  time  being,  hired  out  to  a  Lyons  firm  in  1825,  and  a 
year  later  to  an  American  house  doing  business  tempo- 
rarily at  Paris.  During  1826  and  1827  he  gave  his  atten- 
tion to  the  preparation  of  another  volume  on  his  system, 
an  abridgement  of  the  "Theory  of  Universal  Unity." 
No  publisher  for  it  could  be  found  at  Paris.  In  1828  he 
went  back  to  Besancon;  a  printer  was  ready  for  his  ser- 
vice, and  "The  New  Industrial  and  Social  World" 
appeared  in  1829. 

This  book  is  distinguished  from  its  fellows  by  a  clearer 
construction  and  a  more  logical  exposition.  After  a 
criticism  of  the  existing  social  state,  its  author  passes  on 
to  an  analysis  of  Passionate  Attraction  and  the  twelve 
passions  which  lead  to  Unityism.  The  three  "distribu- 
tive" passions  are  defined — they  had  been  loosely  indicated 
in  the  "Theory  of  Universal  Unity."  The  Cabalist  pas- 
sion is  partisanship,  intrigue.  It  mingles  calculation  with 
passion.  Its  office  is  to  excite  emulation  between  the 
Groups,  both  in  production  and  consumption.  The  Papil- 
lonne  passion  is  the  need  of  variety  in  man,  change  of 
scene,  novelty  which  stimulates  the  senses  and  also  the 
soul.  This  need  of  variety  "is  felt  to  a  moderate  degree 
every  hour,  and  keenly  every  two  hours."  If  it  is  not 
satisfied  man  relapses  into  lukewarmness  and  ennui.  The 
labor  and  the  pleasures  of  civilization  weary  by  their 
duration.  Fourier  shows  how  a  judicious  variation  of 
work  and  recreation  in  the  Harmonic  state  may  constantly 
keep  mind  and  body  on  the  alert.  He  prepares  two 
schedules  of  a  daily  occupation,  one  for  the  beginning  of 


62  Ten  Frenchmen 

the  Harmonic  existence,  the  other  for  the  period  of  its 
development.  They  differ  in  two  ways.  The  first  varies 
occupations  or  amusements  every  two  hours  as  a  rule, 
while  the  second  varies  them  every  hour.  The  first 
begins  the  day  at  half-past  three,  provides  for  three  meals, 
and  ends  the  day  at  ten.  The  second  begins  the  day  at 
the  same  hour,  provides  for  five  meals,  and  ends  it  at  half- 
past  ten.  He  explains  the  increase  of  meals  in  the  com- 
plete Harmonic  state  as  due  to  the  active  life,  the  habit  of 
short  and  varied  sessions  which  "will  give  a  prodigious 
appetite."  The  limited  space  assigned  to  sleep  is  attrib- 
uted to  the  "refined  hygiene,  joined  to  the  variety  of 
sessions,"  which  will  cause  little  fatigue  and  physical 
waste.  The  Composit  passion  finally  is  a  state  of  exhilar- 
ation, a  blind  enthusiasm  "born  of  the  conjunction  of 
several  pleasures  of  the  senses  and  soul,  enjoyed  simul- 
taneously." It  is  called  "bastard"  when  formed  of 
pleasures  of  one  kind,  sensual  or  spiritual.  Together 
with  the  Cabalist  passion  it  gives  Harmonic  society  its 
motives  for  action.  But  the  important  passion  of  all  is 
the  Papillonne,  the  need  of  variety,  so  decried  by  our 
present-day  moralists. 

From  the  theory  and  explanation  of  the  passions  of 
this  perfected  stage  of  humanity  we  pass  to  its  mode  of 
existence.  The  Phalanx  is  the  nucleus,  as  we  have  seen. 
From  the  experimental  Tribe  of  one  hundred  persons  of 
the  "Theory  of  the  Four  Movements"  it  had  reached  in 
the  "Theory  of  Universal  Unity"  the  Association  of 
fifteen  hundred  to  sixteen  hundred,  cultivating  a  square 
league.  All  classes  and  conditions,  male  and  female  (the 
males  slightly  in  excess,  according  to  nature's  laws),  rich 
and  poor,  should  inhabit  the  same  building  and  work 


Fourier  and  Socialism  63 

together  in  friendly  rivalry.  The  distribution  of  profits, 
according  to  the  ' '  Theory  of  Universal  Unity, ' '  should  be 
five-twelfths  to  manual  labor,  four-twelfths  to  capital,  three- 
twelfths  to  theoretical  and  practical  knowledge  (talent). 
In  the  "New  Industrial  and  Social  World"  the  ideal 
phalanx  numbers  sixteen  hundred  and  twenty  persons,  of 
whom  two  hundred  and  twenty  are  under  four  and  a  half 
years  of  age,  forty-five  extremely  old,  and  one  hundred 
and  twenty  ill,  infirm,  or  absent.  The  others  are  classi- 
fied according  to  their  years  and  character.  This  body 
lives  in  an  immense  building  called  the  phalanstery,  mod- 
eled somewhat  on  the  architecture  of  the  French  palaces, 
with  arcades,  gardens,  stables,  barnyard,  theater,  church, 
ball-room,  and  all  the  appurtenances  of  a  city  in  minia- 
ture. The  inhabitants  of  the  phalanstery,  in  the  complete 
Harmonic  state,  will  be  divided  into  four  hundred  and 
five  series,  each  composed  of  individuals  of  like  tastes, 
who  will  give  themselves  up  to  their  favorite  occupation. 
For  the  incomplete  state  but  one  hundred  and  thirty-five 
series  will  be  formed,  of  which  fifty  will  busy  themselves 
with  the  vegetable  world,  thirty  with  the  animal,  and 
twenty  with  manufacturing.  The  remaining  thirty-five 
are  divided  among  domestic  service  and  professions,  in  the 
widest  acceptation  of  the  term.  All  labor,  of  course,  is 
prompted  by  the  natural  tendency  of  the  twelve  passions 
already  described  and  their  concord  in  Unityism,  the 
desire  for  universal  harmony. 

The  problem  of  the  rearing  of  children  and  their  edu- 
cation becomes  of  primal  importance  in  a  state  founded 
on  passionate  attraction,  for  children  lack  such  an  attri- 
bute. Yet  they  do  possess  the  desire  for  luxury,  bestowed 
on  them  bv  nature.  This  desire  is  to  be  excited  and 


64  Ten  Frenchmen 

turned  towards  the  useful  by  the  various  allurements  of 
playthings,  games,  and  emulation.  Such  is  Fourier's  fond- 
ness for  details  and  analysis  that  he  mentions  some 
twenty-four  means  of  diverting  a  child  of  two  years  of 
age.  Afterwards,  their  natural  talents  are  cultivated  by 
being  allowed  full  play.  Even  those  children  inclined  to 
filthiness  are  to  be  trained  to  care  for  sewers,  drains,  and 
the  like !  They  should  study  books  only  on  stormy  days, 
because  they  prefer  to  be  out  of  doors  during  fine  weather. 
Above  all,  no  constraint.  As  they  grow  older  the  same 
attraction  will  work  on  them  which  prevails  over  the 
passions  of  adults.  Industrial  life  is  the  goal,  and  all 
training  should  tend  to  industry.  But  "all  the  passions 
go  together,  and  the  agreeable  is  always  allied  with  the 
useful."  The  question  of  marriage  is  not  again  consid- 
ered, probably  because  of  the  criticism  of  the  views  pre- 
viously expressed,  but  the  right  of  woman  to  teach  and 
practice  medicine  is  affirmed,  and  her  supremacy  in  the 
world  of  art  asserted. 

More  attention  was  paid  to  this  last  work  of  Fourier 
than  had  been  given  to  his  former  publications.  It  was 
reviewed  by  the  press,  and  its  doctrines  attacked.  A  few 
disciples  came  forward,  among  them  a  future  leader  of 
the  sect,  Victor  Considerant.  Some  deserters  from  Saint 
Simonism,  which  was  then  meeting  with  considerable 
favor,  came  over  to  the  Phalanstery  camp.  In  1832  a 
weekly  was  started,  Le  Phalansthe  ou  La  Re'forme  indus- 
trielle.  An  experimental  phalanstery  even  was  projected, 
but  was  soon  abandoned  because  of  lack  of  capital. 
Courses  of  lectures  on  the  theory  were  given,  however,  at 
Paris  and  elsewhere.  In  1835  Fourier  published  a 
defense  of  himself  and  an  attack  on  his  critics,  under  the 


Fourier  and  Socialism  65 

title  of  "False  Industry."  In  1836  Le  Phalanstere  (dead 
in  1834)  was  succeeded  by  another  journal.  The  public 
became  well  informed  of  the  movement.  But  no  money 
was  available  to  make  the  experiment,  and  Fourier,  whose 
health  had  been  steadily  declining,  died  on  October  9, 
l837>  without  seeing  the  desire  of  his  heart  realized. 

Shortly  after  Fourier's  death  his  system  seemed  on  the 
point  of  gaining  a  firm  foothold.  It  was  brought  to 
America  and  made  the  subject  of  many  experiments,  the 
most  notable  of  which  was  that  faint  reproduction  of  a 
phalanstery  known  as  Brook  Farm,  in  which  Charles  A. 
Dana,  Margaret  Fuller,  and  other  celebrities  of  the  world 
of  letters  took  part,  and  which  gave  Hawthorne  the 
material  for  his  "Blithedale  Romance."  In  France, 
after  some  years  of  halting,  a  stove  manufacturer,  in 
i860,  built  a  phalanstery  at  Guise  (called  Familistere), 
and  rented  it  to  his  workmen.  Many  of  the  ideas  of 
Fourier  are  here  found  in  practical  application.  Some 
eighteen  hundred  people  inhabit  the  building,  which 
includes  shops  and  a  theater,  young  children  are  cared  for 
in  a  day  nursery,  and  the  comfort  of  the  sick  and  old  is 
secured.  A  scheme  of  profit-sharing  on  the  cooperative 
plan  furnishes  an  incentive  to  industry.  But  the  occupa- 
tion of  the  community  is  manufacturing,  while  Fourier 
evidently  considered  a  return  to  nature  and  agriculture  an 
essential  factor  in  his  new  world. 

The  general  interest  excited  by  Fourier's  views,  an 
interest  which  has  led  to  so  many  attempts  to  realize  the 
practical  side  of  them,  and  which  has  only  recently  sug- 
gested the  theme  of  Zola's  regenerative  novel,  "Labor" 
("Travail"),  seems  capable  of  a  rational  explanation.  In 
spite  of  his  extravaganzas,  his  irrelevancies,  his  absurdi- 


66  Ten  Frenchmen 

ties  of  thought  or  statement,  Fourier  quite  consistently 
advocates  two  principles  which  commend  themselves  to 
the  judgment  of  modern  thinkers.  These  principles  are 
those  of  evolution  and  private  property.  Perfection  is  not 
to  be  suddenly  attained  by  Fourier.  The  world  is  not  to 
change  its  habits  over  night.  Through  a  series  of  cen- 
turies, of  epochs  only,  eras  of  constant  improvement  in 
the  dispositions  and  manners  of  men,  are  we  to  reach  the 
perfect  social  state.  The  human  mind  will  react  with 
beneficial  results  on  nature.  The  better  spirit  of  mankind 
will  make  the  wilderness  blossom  as  the  rose  (the  theory 
of  the  Boreal  Crown) .  There  is  some  truth  at  the  bottom 
of  all  this.  And  it  satisfies  the  universal  longing  for  the 
future  of  the  race.  It  is  in  imaginative  accord  at  least 
with  the  present  teachings  of  science. 

Furthermore,  this  ideal  future  is  not  to  be  reached  by 
sacrificing  the  individual  to  the  extent  that  communism 
and  other  doctrines  of  socialism  would  sacrifice  him.  In 
Fourier's  social  unit,  the  phalanstery,  each  associate 
retains  his  own  property,  and  thereby  the  incentive  to 
increase  it.  Each  can  hand  it  down  to  his  children  or 
friends.  There  seems  no  reasonable  solution  of  the  prob- 
lem of  society  which  ignores  the  predominant  factor  of 
individual  effort.  Fourier's  plan  preserves  this  essential 
agent.  It  goes  even  farther,  and  gives  this  agent  a  wider 
scope  by  the  economies  gained  in  cooperative  work,  and 
the  division  of  labor  according  to  personal  inclinations. 
Cooperative  housekeeping,  for  instance,  is  becoming 
more  and  more  desirable,  provided  the  family  privacy  is 
not  endangered.  It  may  be  possible  that  the  general 
trend  of  the  arguments  urged  by  Fourier  may  one  day 
lead  to  a  practical  solution  of  this  vexatious  problem. 


Fourier  and  Socialism  67 


SELECTIONS   FROM    THE   WORKS   OF   FOURIER 

Extracts  from  the  Introduction  to  Fourier's  '•'•New 
Industrial  and  Social  World, ' ' 

A  means  of  suddenly  quadrupling  the  products  of  industry;  of 
bringing  all  the  masters  to  the  conventional  enfranchisement  of 
negroes  and  slaves;  of  refining  barbarians  and  savages  without 
delay;  ....  of  spontaneously  establishing  all  unities  in  lan- 
guage, measures,  money,  typography,  etc. !  This  is  some  char- 
latanry, the  wits  will  say 

A  modern  has  rightly  said:  "The  last  wrong  we  pardon  is  that 
of  announcing  new  truths." 

This  is  the  wrong  I  have  done,  to  unveil  many  new  and  emi- 
nently useful  sciences;  the  most  precious  novelties  were  rejected 
at  first;  potatoes  and  coffee  were  proscribed  by  parliamentary 
edicts;  vaccination,  the  steam  engine,  were  likewise  slandered 
when  they  appeared 

But  let  us  stop  this  discussion;  it  is  more  urgent  to  acquaint 
the  reader  with  the  subject  in  hand,  the  scale  of  the  social  states 
superior  to  civilization,  whose  mechanism  has  been  discovered  at 
last.  Humanity  in  its  social  career  has  thirty-six  periods  to  cover; 
I  give  here  a  schedule  of  the  first,  which  will  be  sufficient  for  the 
documents  contained  in  this  volume : 

SCALE   OF  THE   FIRST  AGE   OF  THE   SOCIAL  WORLD 

Periods  (  K.  Bastard,  without  men.     C.  I. 

anterior  to  •]  I.  Primitive,  called  Eden.     C.  2. 

industry.  (  2.  Savagery,  or  inertia.     C.  3. 

Industry  frag-  t  3.  Patriarchal,  petty  industry, 

mentary,    deceitful,  -j  4.  Barbarism,  mean  industry, 

repugnant.  '  5.  Civilization,  great  industry. 

(  6.  Guaranteeism,  half-association. 

Industry   societary,  \;  Sociantism,  simple  association.     C.  4. 

true,  attractive.  (  g  Harmonism>  combined  association.  C.  5. 

NOTE. — The  letter  C  indicates  the  epochs  of  past  and  future 
creations  of  which  we  speak  farther  on. 


68  Ten  Frenchmen 

I  do  not  mention  period  9  and  following  periods,  because 
we  can  at  present  rise  to  period  8  only,  already  infinitely  blessed 
in  comparison  with  the  four  societies  now  existing.  It  will  sud- 
denly and  spontaneously  extend  to  the  whole  human  race,  by  the 
mere  influence  of  profits,  pleasures,  and  especially  industrial 
attraction,  a  mechanism  not  at  all  known  to  our  politicians  and 
moralists 

In  order  to  create  this  attraction  we  had  to  discover  the  method 
called  Passionate  Series,  explained  in  this  work.  It  is  gradually 
established  during  the  periods  6,  7,  8  of  the  above  schedule. 
Period  6  creates  but  a  half-attraction,  and  would  not  allure  the 
savages.  The  7th'  would  begin  to  attract  them.  The  8th  will 
win  over  the  idle  rich  also.  We  can  pass  over  the  6th  and  7th 
periods,  thanks  to  the  invention  of  the  Passionate  Series,  which 
forms  the  mechanism  of  the  8th  period 

Civilized  peoples  are  persuaded  that  they  are  hastening  to  per- 
fectibility when  they  are  overwhelmed  with  new  and  recent  calami- 
lies;  ....  among  others  the  scourge  of  public  debts,  ever 
increasing,  and  which  at  the  first  war  among  the  western  nations 
would  bring  on  universal  bankruptcy,  followed  by  revolutions. 

There  are  many  other  wounds  unperceived.  Such  is  the 
encroachment  of  commerce,  which  threatens  to  invade  everything, 
and  which  is  finally  alarming  the  governments.  The  societary 
theory  can  alone  teach  the  means  of  striking  down  this  political 
Titan 

For  three  thousand  years  philosophy  has  not  been  able  to 
invent  anything  new  in  industrial  and  social  politics.  Its  innumer- 
able systems  are  based  only  on  a  distribution  by  families,  the 
smallest  and  most  ruinous  unity. 

Here  are  new  ideas  at  last,  a  theory  adapted  to  the  views  of 
governments,  instead  of  tormenting  them  by  philanthropic  visions, 
true  masks  for  agitators.  Every  minister  will  appreciate  a  method 
which,  while  quadrupling  the  revenue  available,  will  at  once  allow 
taxes  to  be  doubled,  while  really  decreasing  the  burdens  of  the 
tax-payers  by  one-half.  (They  will  pay  but  double  on  a  quadruple 
product.)  .... 

A  more  brilliant  effect  will  be  to  operate  on  the  entire  world, 
savage,  barbarous,  and  civilized;  to  change  it  all  by  an  experi- 


Fourier  and  Socialism  69 

ment  limited  to  a  square  league  and  eighteen  hundred  people. 
What  a  contrast  with  philosophy,  which  overturns  empires  with- 
out any  guarantee  of  good  results 

Poor  civilization  makes  gigantic  efforts  for  nothing;  sending 
armies  and  navies  to  deliver  perhaps  one-tenth  of  Greece;  revolu- 
tions and  massacres,  as  attempts  to  emancipate  the  negroes; 
fruitless  endeavors  to  aid  poverty.  All  this  pygmy  labor  is  going 
to  cease.  The  human  race  is  going  to  be  enfranchised  and  deliv- 
ered altogether.  It  will  rally  everywhere  to  attractive  industry  as 
soon  as  it  knows,  by  an  experiment  on  one  district,  the  prodigies 
of  riches,  pleasures,  and  virtues  reaped  from  it. 

There  the  chimeras  and  furies  of  party  spirit  will  end.  Each 
one,  seeing  the  true  destiny  of  man,  the  mechanism  of  the  passions, 
will  be  so  confounded  at  the  absurdities  of  civilization  that  he  will 
elect  to  forget  them  as  quickly  as  possible 

At  Paris  they  are  trying  to  extirpate  begging Those  in 

charge  of  this  attempt  do  not  know  that  they  must  operate  on  the 
country  before  operating  on  the  city,  effect  industrial  reform  in 
agriculture,  manufacturing,  commerce,  and  housekeeping. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 

French  and  German  Socialism  in  Modern  Times.  Richard  T. 
Ely. 

Fourierism      New  International  Encyclopedia. 

The  Guise  Familistcre  is  described  in  The  Fortnightly  Review, 
Vol.  LIII  (1893),  pp.  418-426,  and  Harper's  Monthly,  Vol. 
LXXI  (1885),  pp.  912-918. 


CHAPTER   IV 

TRIERS   AND    THE    GROWTH    OF   REPUBLICAN 
PRINCIPLES 

[Louis  ADOLPHE  THIERS,  born  at  Marseilles,  April  16,  1797; 
journalist  at  Paris  from  1822;  deputy  from  Aix,  1830;  Minister 
of  the  Interior,  1832;  member  of  the  French  Academy,  1834; 
in  exile,  1851-1852;  deputy  from  Paris,  1863;  President  of 
France,  1871-1873;  died  at  St.  Germain,  September  3,  1877. 
Principal  works :  "History  of  the  French  Revolution,"  1823- 
1827;  "History  of  the  Consulate  and  Empire,"  1845-1862.] 

There  were  many  in  France,  like  Fourier  and  Guizot, 
who  had  profited  by  the  great  Revolution,  but  to  whom  it 
had  not  been  an  unmixed  blessing.  Fourier  had  lost  his 
property  in  it,  Guizot  his  father.  Their  attitude  towards 
the  movement,  in  common  with  the  opinion  of  a  large 
number  of  their  countrymen,  particularly  those  who 
belonged  to  the  higher  bourgeoisie,  was  one  of  approval 
with  reservations.  The  greater  measure  of  liberty  it  had 
brought  they  enjoyed.  But  they  wished  this  liberty  to  be 
held  in  check,  controlled  by  a  conservative  moderation. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  mass  of  the  population  indorsed 
the  ideas  of  the  Revolution  and  approved  of  its  acts.  The 
peasant  had  become  owner  of  the  soil  he  had  tilled  for 
centuries,  confiscated  from  the  clergy  and  nobility.  The 
small  tradesman,  roofed  in  by  the  ledge  of  caste,  had 
suddenly  found  the  rock  above  him  blasted  away,  and  the 
fields  of  opportunity  lying  at  his  feet.  The  peasantry  and 
the  petty  bourgeoisie  easily  outnumbered  the  other  classes. 

70 


LOUIS  ADOLPHE  TRIERS 


Thiers  and  Republican  Principles          71 

They  had  no  apologies  to  proffer  for  the  way  in  which 
their  social  status  had  been  transformed.  After  the  des- 
potism of  the  Empire  they  quickly  found  their  leaders, 
and  chief  among  these  stood  Adolphe  Thiers. 

This  champion  of  democracy,  and  president  to  be,  was 
born  at  Marseilles,  in  1797.  Of  a  family  that  was  not 
particularly  prosperous,  he  had  obtained  his  education  in 
the  local  schools  by  means  of  a  scholarship.  Going  in 
1815  to  Aix  to  study  law,  he  found  there,  as  fellow-student, 
the  future  historian  Mignet,  with  whom  he  formed  a  last- 
ing friendship.  During  this  residence  at  Aix  Thiers 's 
political  leanings  became  manifest.  It  is  told  that  on  the 
occasion  of  a  prize  competition  proposed  by  the  Academy 
of  Aix,  in  1820,  Thiers,  who  had  just  graduated  from  the 
law  school,  offered  a  eulogy  of  the  eighteenth-century 
philosopher  and  essayist,  Vauvenargues.  It  was  the  best 
of  all  the  pieces  submitted.  But  the  name  of  its  author 
was  revealed,  and  the  reactionary  Academy  could  not 
make  up  its  mind  to  thus  publicly  reward  a  defender  of 
the  Revolution.  So  the  competition  was  annulled  for 
that  year.  The  year  following  Thiers  submitted  his 
eulogy  again  under  his  own  name,  and  also  a  second  piece 
which  purported  to  come  from  Paris,  and  which  did  not 
bear  a  signature.  The  Academy,  thus  tricked,  awarded 
the  prize  to  the  latter  essay,  and  gave  honorable  mention 
to  the  former. 

In  1821  Thiers  and  Mignet  went  to  Paris.  Thiers  was 
soon  admitted  to  the  staff  of  Le  Constitutionnel,  and  was 
also  assigned  the  political  review  of  a  weekly  paper.  Le 
Constitulionnd  was  radical  in  its  leanings.  It  supported 
the  cause  of  the  Revolution.  Thiers  took  the  side  of 
democracy  against  the  aristocracy  of  the  Restoration. 


72  Ten  Frenchmen 

He  also  tried  art  criticism,  and  wrote  up  the  picture 
exhibit  (Salon)  of  1822  for  the  romantic  journal,  Le  Globe. 
In  1823  a  book  on  the  Pyrenees  and  South  France,  osten- 
sibly a  narrative  of  travel,  but  really  a  political  pamphlet 
against  the  proposed  expedition  into  Spain — to  restore 
Ferdinand  VII — illustrated  in  a  concrete  way  his  powers 
of  argument  and  satire. '  Some  years  afterwards,  in  1830, 
he  was  active  in  founding  a  new  journal,  Le  National,  in 
which  he  continued  to  sustain  the  work  of  the  Revolu- 
tion. In  practice,  however,  he  considered,  with  Guizot, 
that  liberty  would  be  best  conserved  by  a  constitutional 
monarchy  after  the  pattern  of  England,  not  a  republic 
like  the  United  States.  As  he  himself  expressed  it:  "We 
must  cross  the  Channel,  and  not  the  Atlantic."  This 
position,  once  assumed,  seems  to  have  been  maintained 
by  him  to  the  end.  The  name  mattered  little.  He  was 
ready  to  uphold  any  government  which  should  guarantee 
to  the  governed  the  liberty  won  by  the  Revolution.  The 
great  obstacle  to  the  furtherance  of  this  liberty,  he  claimed, 
was  the  divine  right  of  kings,  which  the  Bourbons  still 
maintained.  Now  the  monarch,  emperor,  or  president  of 
the  modern  state  should  derive  his  powers  from  the  con- 
sent of  the  governed.  Specifically  he  would  be  an  Orlean- 
ist,  were  the  opportunity  given.  The  opportunity  came 
in  1830,  and  Thiers  entered  public  life. 

During  these  ten  years  of  literary  and  political  activity 
the  journalist  had  shown  himself  an  historian  also.  His 
"History  of  the  French  Revolution,"  begun  in  1823,  had 
expanded  to  ten  volumes  by  the  time  it  was  finished,  in 
1827.  When  he  first  proposed  it  to  a  publisher,  the  latter 
required  that  he  add  as  collaborator  the  name  of  Felix 
Bodin,  a  well-known  writer  of  historical  summaries  for 


Thiers  and  Republican  Principles  73 

popular  use,  books  of  facts  and  dates  rather  than  of  judg- 
ment and  description.  The  first  two  volumes  of  the 
"History"  bore,  therefore,  the  names  of  both  Thiers  and 
Bodin.  From  the  third  the  name  of  Thiers  appears  alone. 
Nor  is  there  any  reason  to  suppose  that  he  had  received 
much  assistance  from  Bodin,  unless  indeed  in  the  sug- 
gestion of  the  work  itself.  Thiers's  method  of  historical 
writing  is  quite  the  reverse  of  Guizot's.  If  the  latter's 
may  be  rightly  called  philosophical,  the  former's  may  per- 
haps be  termed  journalistic.  Thiers  certainly  did  not  shut 
himself  up  in  his  study  and  absorb  himself  in  the  contem- 
plation of  the  principles  of  the  world's  progress,  illustrat- 
ing these  principles  by  documents  in  hand.  On  the 
contrary,  he  went  out  into  the  street,  entered  cafes, 
joined  groups  in  the  public  squares,  frequented  salons, 
questioning  the  men  and  women  who  had  played  a  part 
in  the  great  drama,  or  who  had  accounts  of  it  from  eye- 
witnesses. This  is  the  reportorial  way  of  gathering  news. 
It  has  its  merits.  The  facts  collected  are  quick  with  life, 
the  impressions  received  glow  with  passion,  the  opinions 
expressed  still  quiver  with  the  emotion  of  personal  experi- 
ence. But  all  the  notes  thus  made,  however  vivid  their 
content,  are  quite  untrustworthy  in  their  application  to 
events.  They  cannot  lay  claim  to  impartiality  at  least. 
They  are  personal,  partisan.  And  so  it  was  with  the 
history  which  Thiers  made  up  from  them.  It  was  vivid, 
clear  in  expression,  vibrating  with  feeling,  but  superficial 
as  to  the  exposition  of  causes,  and  filled  with  party  spirit 
in  the  narration  of  events.  Inevitably,  certain  of  the 
great  figures  became  heroes  in  the  author's  eyes;  others 
quite  as  great  suffered  by  his  hostility.  His  prejudices 
were  those  of  the  Third  Estate,  and  the  lower  Third  Estate 


74  Ten  Frenchmen 

at  that.  He  had  suffered  nothing  in  property  or  in  life 
by  the  political  and  social  changes  of  the  revolutionary 
period.  He  had  gained  rather  by  the  general  results  of 
the  changes.  Therefore,  he  comes  forward  as  their 
defender.  It  is  the  radical  republican  daring  to  praise 
what  had  been  condemned  by  the  writers  of  the  Restora- 
tion. He  was  not  actuated  by  sentiment.  There  is  little 
that  is  romantic  in  his  inspiration.  Thiers  belonged  to 
the  class  of  materialists  who  recognize  facts  because  they 
are  facts,  and  accept  them  because  they  are.  So  the 
general  thought  of  his  "History"  is  stamped  with  fatalism. 
What  must  be  must  be,  the  creed  of  that  embodiment  of 
the  Revolution,  Napoleon  Bonaparte.  The  style  and 
content  go  well  together.  Both  are  equally  clear,  direct, 
forceful. 

Consequently  the  success  of  this  book  was  unusual. 
The  passing  generation,  of  whatever  shade  of  belief,  found 
in  it  the  recital  of  its  exploits  or  its  wrongs.  Partisans 
of  every  sort  denounced  it  or  defended  it,  but  all  read  it. 
Furthermore,  its  publication  came  at  what  is  generally 
called  the  "psychological  moment."  A  new  generation 
had  come  forward,  contemporaries  of  Thiers,  who  knew 
of  the  excesses  of  the  Terror  by  hearsay  only,  as  he  did, 
but  who  saw  that  whatever  injustices  had  been  done  in  the 
name  of  liberty,  the  fact  remained  that  liberty  had  been 
acquired  and  the  class  privileges  of  the  ancien  regime  had 
gone  forever.  These  people  had  benefited  by  the  change. 
They  were  tired  of  the  denunciation  of  the  methods  by 
which  the  change  had  been  wrought.  They  were  begin- 
ning to  feel  their  power  and  they  hailed  the  daring  protag- 
onist of  their  views  as  the  champion  of  the  new  democ- 
racy. The  "History  of  the  French  Revolution"  laid  the 


Thiers  and  Republican  Principles          75 

foundations  for  Thiers's  political  career.  Henceforward 
he  felt  behind  him  a  party,  increasing  in  numbers  and 
growing  in  wealth  and  influence.  Relying  on  its  support 
he  had  helped  found  Le  National,  its  votes  had  elected 
him  to  the  Assembly  in  the  same  year,  and  he  represented 
it  in  the  ministry  of  the  new  government  which  was  formed 
after  the  Revolution  of  1830. 

Thiers  was  not  a  republican  yet.  He  still  held  to  the 
idea  of  a  constitutional  monarchy  based  on  the  model  of 
the  English  government.  He  thought  it  best  adapted  to 
preserve  the  liberties  which  had  been  won  by  the  French 
against  both  despotism  and  anarchy.  In  this  respect  he 
agreed  with  Guizot  and  for  a  time  we  find  these  two 
working  together.  But  Guizot,  as  we  have  seen,  pos- 
sessed but  a  restricted  notion  of  political  liberty.  Not  only 
should  it  be  conserved  by  a  monarchy,  but  it  should  also 
be  guaranteed  by  a  choice  body  of  voters  selected  from  the 
upper  bourgeoisie,  to  which  Guizot  himself  belonged. 
Now  Thiers  was  of  the  petty  bourgeoisie.  He  could  see 
no  harm  in  bringing  his  own  social  caste  into  participa- 
tion in  public  affairs.  It  was  soon  evident  that  the  advo- 
cate of  the  wider  democracy  could  not  dwell  in  peace  with 
him  who  saw  all  political  wisdom  concentrated  in  the 
upper  bourgeoisie.  In  1840  they  came  to  an  open  sepa- 
ration. 

The  intervening  ten  years,  1830  to  1840,  had  confirmed 
Thiers  in  his  attitude  of  political  progress,  and  had  intro- 
duced him  to  the  public  as  an  orator  of  the  first  rank. 
His  maiden  speech,  however,  as  one  of  the  secretaries  of 
the  Treasury  Department,  had  been  a  failure.  Monoto- 
nous in  tone  and  hesitating  in  speech,  his  physical  appear- 
ance, short,  ugly,  had  added  to  his  discomfiture.  But  his 


j6  Ten  Frenchmen 

reappearance  on  the  floor  the  following  year,  1831,  in  a 
debate  on  foreign  affairs,  had  at  once  convinced  his  fellow- 
members  of  their  wrong  judgment.  Clear,  logical,  inci- 
sive, witty,  passionate,  his  emotion  and  his  energy  trans- 
formed his  very  body.  '  Such  merits  could  not  be  neglected 
by  the  government,  and  in  1832  he  became  Minister  of 
the  Interior,  thus  entering  on  a  career  of  administrative 
responsibility  which  lasted  four  years,  and  during  which 
he  was  closely  associated  with  Guizot.  Both  retired  at 
the  same  time  in  1836.  Thiers  resumed  power  for  a  few 
months  in  1840,  this  time,  however,  to  be  replaced  by 
Guizot,  whose  attitude  of  conservatism  stood  higher  in 
the  favor  oT  the  king. 

During  this  decade  the  reaction  against  the  condemna- 
tion of  the  Revolution  had  been  steadily  gaining  headway. 
The  glory  of  Napoleon,  obscured  for  a  time  by  the 
remembrance  of  the  wretchedness  his  wars  had  brought 
to  the  homes  of  France,  had  also  come  out  from  its 
eclipse.  The  splendor  of  his  conquests  illuminated  all  his 
deeds.  The  legend  of  the  Little  Corporal  began,  fostered 
by  the  sentimentality  of  the  veterans  of  the  Grand  Army 
and  by  the  fireside  poetry  of  a  Beranger.  A  Bonapartist 
revival  was  well  under  way.  Certain  public  events  had 
been  created  by  it,  and  had  assisted  it  in  turn.  In  1833 
the  statue  of  the  Emperor  had  been  restored  to  the  pedes- 
tal on  which  it  had  formerly  stood,  the  Vendome  column, 
cast  by  Napoleon  out  of  the  cannon  captured  in  his  Euro- 
pean campaigns.  In  1836  the  Arch  of  Triumph,  begun 
by  him  to  celebrate  his  victories  and  turned  from  this  plan 
by  the  government  of  the  Restoration,  was  restored  to  its 
original  purpose  and  finished  by  Louis  Philippe.  Finally, 
in  1840,  during  the  short  interval  that  Thiers  was  head  of 


Thiers  and  Republican  Principles  77 

affairs,  Guizot,  then  ambassador  to  England,  acting  at 
Thiers's  instigation,  obtained  from  the  English  ministry 
the  permission  to  remove  Napoleon's  remains  from  St. 
Helena  to  French  soil.  Bonaparte  had  said  in  his  will: 
"I  wish  my  ashes  to  repose  on  the  banks  of  the  Seine,  in 
the  midst  of  that  French  people  I  have  so  loved,"  and 
the  popular  desire  had  long  looked  forward  to  a  consum- 
mation of  this  wish.  In  November,  1840,  his  body  arrived 
at  Cherbourg.  From  that  port  to  Paris  the  funeral  cortege 
moved  along  escorted  by  the  acclamations  of  the  whole 
population.  So  slow  was  the  progress  in  the  midst  of  the 
unbounded  enthusiasm,  that  it  was  the  middle  of  Decem- 
ber before  the  final  resting-place  was  reached  under  the 
dome  of  the  church  of  the  Invalides. 

Thiers  may  not  have  aided  this  apotheosis  of  Napoleon 
with  his  own  political  interests  in  view,  but  he  as  surely 
aided  it.  His  "History  of  the  French  Revolution"  had 
pointed  that  way.  His  speech  at  the  time  of  his  recep- 
tion to  the  French  Academy  (1834)  further  showed  the 
inclination  of  his  mind.  In  the  midst  of  the  praise  of  his 
predecessor,  the  dramatist  Andrieux,  the  newly  elected 
Academician  found  room  for  the  eulogy  of  the  times  in 
which  Andrieux  had  lived.  This  eulogy  better  than  any 
words  of  paraphrase  or  comment  can  throw  light  on  the 
attitude  of  a  large  group  of  the  French  people  towards 
the  Revolution  and  the  Empire:  "What  a  time,  what 
things,  what  men,  from  that  memorable  year  of  1789  to 
that  other  year  no  less  memorable  of  1830!  The  old 
French  society  of  the  eighteenth  century,  so  polished  but 
so  badly  ordered,  ends  in  a  frightful  storm.  A  crown 
falls  with  a  crash,  carrying  with  it  the  august  head  which 
wore  it.  Immediately  and  without  respite  the  most 


78  Ten  Frenchmen 

precious  and  illustrious  heads  are  stricken  low:  genius, 
heroism,  youth,  succumb  to  the  fury  of  factions,  which  are 
irritated  by  all  that  charms  men.  And  from  out  this 
bloody  chaos  an  extraordinary  genius  suddenly  arises, 
who  seizes  that  society,  stops  it,  gives  it  at  the  same  time 
order,  glory,  realizes  civil  equality,  the  most  genuine  of 
its  needs,  postpones  the  liberty  which  would  have  impeded 
its  progress,  and  hastens  to  carry  through  the  world  the 
puissant  truths  of  the  French  Revolution.  One  day  his 
tri-colored  banner  shines  forth  on  the  heights  of  Mount 
Tabor;  another  day,  on  the  Tagus;  finally  on  the  Borys- 
thenes.  He  falls  at  last,  leaving  the  world  filled  with  his 
works,  the  human  mind  full  of  his  image.  And  the  most 
active  of  mortals  goes  away  to  die,  to  die  of  inaction,  on 
an  island  of  the  great  ocean!  ....  We  have  seen  a 
forum  as  bloody  as  that  of  Rome;  we  have  seen  the  heads 
of  orators  borne  to  the  tribune's  seat;  we  have  seen  kings 
more  unfortunate  than  Charles  I,  more  sadly  blinded  than 
James  II;  we  see  every  day  the  prudence  of  William  of 
Orange;  and  we  have  seen  Caesar — Caesar  himself! 
Among  you  who  are  listening  to  me  there  are  witnesses 
who  have  had  the  glory  of  approaching  him,  of  meeting 
his  gleaming  glance,  of  hearing  his  voice,  of  receiving  his 
orders  from  his  own  lips,  and  of  hastening  to  execute 
them  through  the  smoke  of  battle-fields." 

The  bearing  of  such  eloquent  sentences  is  unmistak- 
able. Thiers,  willingly  or  not,  was  already  a  pronounced 
admirer  of  Napoleon,  and  saw  in  him  the  personification 
of  the  principles  of  the  Revolution.  But  apart  from  this 
admiration  of  the  man  he  still  stood  for  a  constitutional 
monarchy,  and  not  for  an  empire.  Throughout  the  eight 
years  of  political  opposition  that  followed  1840,  the  years 


Thiers  and  Republican  Principles          79 

in  which  Guizot's  "doctrinaire"  ideas  of  a  bourgeoisie 
administration,  stubbornly  adhered  to,  were  ruining  the 
cause  of  a  constitutional  monarchy,  Thiers  abode  by  that 
principle.  He  argued  for  an  extension  of  the  suffrage, 
and  the  incompatibility  of  office-holding  with  the  function 
of  a  deputy  to  the  Assembly,  but  he  never  spoke  for  either 
republic  or  empire.  In  the  last  days  of  Louis  Philippe 
he  carefully  abstained  from  overt  acts  of  disapproval,  and 
when  at  the  supreme  moment  Guizot  was  forced  to  give 
up  the  direction  of  affairs,  he  even  consented  to  head  a 
more  liberal  ministry.  But  it  was  too  late.  The  day  of 
compromise  had  passed.  Universal  suffrage  triumphed  in 
the  Revolution  of  1848. 

Thiers  accepted  the  Republic  as  he  would  have  accepted 
any  form  of  government  which  should  preserve  the  results 
attained  by  the  French  Revolution.  Shortly  before  the 
fall  of  the  monarchy  he  had  affirmed  his  position  before  a 
hostile  house  in  these  words:  "I  am  not  a  radical,  gentle- 
men; the  radicals  know  that  very  well,  and  to  read  their 
journals  is  enough  to  be  convinced  of  it.  But  listen  well 
to  my  opinion,  I  am  of  the  party  of  the  Revolution,  both 
in  France  and  in  Europe.  I  hope  the  government  of  the 
Revolution  may  remain  in  the  hands  of  moderates.  I 
shall  do  all  I  can  to  have  it  remain  there.  But  even 
though  this  government  should  pass  into  the  hands  of  men 
who  are  less  moderate  than  I  and  my  friends,  into  the 
hands  of  ardent  men,  even  were  they  radicals,  I  shall  not 
abandon  my  cause  on  that  account;  I  shall  always  belong 
to  the  party  of  the  Revolution."  He  accepted  an  election 
from  Paris  to  the  new  house  of  representatives,  and  in  its 
deliberations  ranked  himself  among  the  conservatives. 
To  combat  the  theories  of  the  socialists,  which  were 


8o  Ten  Frenchmen 

attaining  prominence  at  this  time,  he  published  a  witty 
defense  of  the  rights  of  individual  ownership  ("On  Prop- 
erty," 1848).  In  the  house  itself  he  led  the  majority 
against  a  proposition  of  the  socialist  writer,  Proudhon. 
Later,  in  the  presidential  election,  he  supported  the  can- 
didacy of  Louis  Napoleon,  perhaps  because  of  his  devo- 
tion to  the  cause  of  the  first  Napoleon,  perhaps  because 
he  considered  the  nephew  of  the  great  Emperor  more 
conservative  than  the  other  candidates,  and  did  not  fear 
any  reaction  in  the  government.  Napoleon  was  elected 
by  an  overwhelming  majority,  and  with  him  an  Assembly 
which  numbered  but  very  few  partisans  of  a  republic. 
The  sequel  of  this  election  is  well  known.  Greeted  by 
the  sober  mass  of  the  population  as  the  restorer  of  law 
and  order,  crowned  with  the  halo  of  the  Napoleonic  glory, 
supported  by  the  clergy  and  the  advocates  of  clerical 
authority,  Louis  Napoleon  dared  affront  the  men  who  had 
aided  his  advancement,  gained  control  of  the  regular 
army,  and  established  despotic  power  in  France  by  the 
coup  d'etat  of  December  2,  1851.  Thiers  had  foreseen 
the  catastrophe,  had  striven  to  avert  it  by  recalling  his 
countrymen  to  the  defense  of  the  law.  On  the  dissolu- 
tion of  the  Assembly,  he  was  arrested  by  order  of  the 
conspirators  and  sent  into  exile.  A  few  weeks  later  the 
famous  plebiscite  voted  the  Second  Empire  into  being. 

The  coup  d'etat  gave  Thiers  back  to  the  duties  of  pri- 
vate life.  The  decree  of  his  exile  was  revoked  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1852,  and  he  returned  to  France,  to  the  meetings 
of  the  Academy,  to  the  salons  of  Paris,  mainly  hostile  to 
the  new  master,  to  new  studies  in  the  natural  sciences  and 
astronomy,  to  attendance  on  the  lectures  of  Pasteur  at 
the  Ecole  Normale,  above  all,  to  the  composition  of  his 


Thiers  and  Republican  Principles          81 

greater  historical  work,  "History  of  the  Consulate  and  the 
Empire."  He  had  begun  this  sequel  to  his  "French 
Revolution"  in  1845,  while  still  engaged  in  parliamentary 
work.  Five  volumes  had  been  published  in  that  year,  two 
each  in  1847  and  1849,  and  three  in  1851.  The  period 
of  exile  had  interrupted  him.  Some  time  elapsed  before 
he  could  settle  down  to  his  task  again.  Not  till  1856  was 
publication  renewed,  and  1862  first  saw  the  completion  of 
the  undertaking.  The  same  success  was  won  here  that 
was  gained  by  his  "French  Revolution."  The  methods 
employed  in  writing  the  two  books  varied,  of  course. 
The  men  who  had  taken  part  in  the  politics  and  wars 
under  Napoleon,  while  still  numerous,  retained  impres- 
sions of  events  that  were  less  vivid  than  those  of  the 
survivors  of  the  revolutionary  period,  in  1823.  Many 
details  had  escaped  them.  Their  passions  had  cooled  in 
the  thirty  years  and  more  of  interval.  From  them  Thiers 
gleaned  what  he  could.  But  other  sources  were  open  to 
him.  The  government  archives,  the  memoirs  and  cor- 
respondence of  contemporaries  and  participants,  the  judg- 
ments pronounced  by  predecessors — how  much  use  he 
made  of  this  written  material  cannot  be  determined.  He 
is  accused  of  restricting  himself  to  the  files  of  the  govern- 
ment organ,  Le  Monitettr.  An  unjust  accusation  probably, 
but  which  might  well  be  true,  in  view  of  the  fact  that  he 
wholly  neglected  the  accounts  of  English  and  German 
authorities.  Consequently,  from  an  historical  standpoint, 
the  "Consulate  and  Empire"  possesses  little  value. 

The  public  at  large,  however,  did  not  look  so  closely. 
It  was  attracted  to  the  work  by  the  same  qualities  which 
had  furthered  the  vogue  of  the  "French  Revolution." 
The  same  clear  style,  the  same  rapid  sequence  of  events 


82  Ten  Frenchmen 

narrated,  the  same  disregard  of  philosophical  meditation  on 
cause  and  effect.  Heroes  come  and  go.  Those  who 
succeed  are  praised,  those  who  fail  are  condemned.  Such 
are  the  fortunes  of  war,  and  Thiers  was  not  an  idealist. 
Even  the  great  hero,  the  genius  whose  career  was  so  elo- 
quently outlined  in  the  speech  delivered  at  Thiers 's  recep- 
tion into  the  French  Academy,  shares  like  fate  with  the 
heroes  of  less  eminence.  All  conquering  he  was  all  wise. 
But  his  campaigns  in  Spain  and  Russia  demonstrated  his 
fallibility.  Thiers 's  critics  attribute  this  alteration  of 
eulogy  in  the  case  of  the  great  Napoleon  to  the  political 
deeds  of  the  "petty  Napoleon,"  as  Hugo  delighted  to 
call  him.  Between  the  first  volumes  of  the  history  and 
the  last  the  coup  d'etat  had  intervened.  It  may  be  these 
reproaches  of  undue  influence  are  right.  Yet  it  was 
Thiers's  way  to  reward  success  with  praise,  failure  with 
blame.  It  was  this  characteristic  of  his  work  which  gives 
it  the  name  of  "fatalistic."  Napoleon  was  no  exception 
to  his  rule. 

No  sooner  was  this  second  great  literary  undertaking 
ended  than  an  indication  of  liberalism  in  the  policy  of 
Napoleon  III  called  Thiers  once  more  into  the  political 
arena.  In  the  election  of  1863  he  was  returned  to  the 
house  ("corps  legislatif")  as  member  from  Paris.  His 
appearance  was  a  political  event.  The  old  guard  of  con- 
stitutional liberty  in  France  reentered  the  parliament  of 
France  with  him.  This  idea  was  clearly  affirmed  in  his 
first  long  speech.  He  asks  for  liberty — individual,  elec- 
toral, parliamentary;  liberty  of  the  press  and  ministerial 
responsibility.  He  asks  for  these  "necessary  liberties" 
quietly,  dispassionately.  Yet  he  points  out  the  danger  of 
refusing  them.  And  he  continued  on  this  course,  a  critic 


Thiers  and  Republican  Principles          83 

01  the  administration,  but  not  a  hostile  one,  more  desirous 
of  seeing  the  return  of  representative  government  than  of 
accomplishing  the  ruin  of  the  Empire.  He  was  not  an 
extremist.  He  was  not  even  a  republican  by  conviction. 
He  still  modeled  his  opinion  on  the  English  constitution. 
He  often  stood  alone,  between  the  imperialists  on  the  one 
hand,  and  the  radicals  on  the  other. 

But  even  a  temperate  critic  found  occasions  enough  to 
employ  all  the  resources  of  his  talent.  The  Second 
Empire  was  tossed  from  one  mistake  to  another.  The 
Emperor  was  a  mixture  of  an  autocrat  and  a  humani- 
tarian. At  times  he  was  more  than  suspected  of  socialistic 
views.  He  constantly  wavered  in  both  his  domestic  and 
foreign  policy.  Extreme  measures  in  one  direction  were 
soon  balanced  by  extreme  measures  in  the  opposite  direc- 
tion. For  a  while  at  least  the  people  of  France  were  not 
affected  by  his  home  policy.  All  classes  were  satisfied — 
the  workmen,  peasants,  business  men,  and  clergy.  But 
the  French  have  always  been  peculiarly  sensitive  to  their 
standing  among  nations.  They  would  play  a  large  part 
in  the  politics  of  the  world.  Napoleon  III  recognized 
this  trait,  and  tried  to  suit  it.  The  Crimean  War  was 
one  consequence  of  his  attempts  to  please,  a  war  which 
estranged  both  enemy  and  ally.  Another  endeavor  was 
the  war  against  Austria  for  the  independence  of  Italy, 
which  was  brought  to  an  abrupt  close  without  Italy's  con- 
sent. The  war  in  Mexico  grew  out  of  a  mixture  of  busi- 
ness with  dreams  of  a  Latin  empire.  French  pride  was 
touched  by  its  unfortunate  conclusion.  So  with  the  other 
events  of  the  day,  the  Schleswig-Holstein  imbroglio,  the 
war  between  Prussia  and  Austria  in  1866,  the  failure  to 
secure  Luxembourg,  the  expedition  into  Italy  in  1867. 


84  Ten  Frenchmen 

Every  undertaking  of  the  Emperor,  the  result  of  his  own 
emotions,  or  the  country's  ambition,  with  which  he  had 
no  real  sympathy  at  heart,  alienated  some  portion  of  the 
nation  because  of  its  lack  of  decision  and  thoroughness. 
Finally  the  elections  of  1869  showed  that  the  peasants 
alone  remained  loyal  to  the  government.  The  cities  were 
all  in  active  opposition.  A  liberal  administration  was 
tried.  A  constitution  was  submitted  to  popular  vote.  It 
was  overwhelmingly  ratified.  The  pure  Bonapartists  took 
courage.  Absolutism  seemed  possible  again.  A  success- 
ful war  might  confirm  its  hold  on  the  nation  for  another 
generation.  Urged  on  by  partisans,  by  dynastic  consider- 
ations, by  popular  jealousy  of  Prussia,  the  fatalistic  Em- 
peror yielded  to  the  importunities  of  his  advisers  and 
consented  to  a  breach  of  peace.  The  Empire  paid  the 
price,  but  the  humiliation  of  France  was  complete. 

Throughout  these  years  of  unrest  Thiers  had  remained 
a  critic,  and  an  ally  as  well.  He  had  deplored  the  mistakes 
in  the  foreign  policy,  had  urged  vigorous  measures  at  the 
time  of  the  Danish  war  in  1864,  and  again  on  the  occa- 
sion of  the  Austrian  defeat  in  1866.  Opponents  even 
assert  that  he  was  partly  responsible  for  the  final  catas- 
trophe of  1870,  because  of  his  insistence  on  military  inter- 
ference with  Prussia  in  these  other  affairs.  And  indeed, 
his  foreign  policy  as  a  minister  under  Louis  Philippe  had 
not  lacked  in  aggressiveness.  However  all  this  may  be, 
when  in  July,  1870,  it  came  to  the  point  of  declaring  war 
against  the  German  state,  he  opposed  the  declaration  with 
all  his  might.  For  hours  this  old  man,  of  more  than 
threescore  years  and  ten,  pleaded  with  the  excited  Bona- 
partist  majority  and  endured  its  insults.  He  knew  that 
France  was  in  no  condition  for  war,  and  that  Prussia  was 


Thiers  and  Republican  Principles  85 

ready.  Yet,  when  his  advice  was  disregarded,  when  the 
Emperor  had  gone  to  the  front  and  the  first  reverses  were 
pushing  the  French  armies  back  onto  their  own  soil,  he 
did  not  stand  aloof.  He  made  common  cause  with  the 
Empire  in  the  defense  of  the  fatherland,  and  accepted  a 
nomination  to  the  Council  of  Defense.  And  he  contin- 
ued at  this  post  even  when  all  his  protests  were  unheeded. 
Sedan  came.  The  Emperor  was  deposed.  The  Third 
Republic  was  proclaimed  on  September  4th,  by  the  citizens 
of  Paris.  The  deputies  of  the  capital  accepted  the  situ- 
ation, the  Corps  Legislatif  was  dissolved,  and  an  unauthor- 
ized government  took  charge  of  public  affairs.  Thiers 
would  not  consent  to  become  a  part  of  it,  though  he  did 
undertake  at  its  request  a  mission  to  foreign  courts.  For 
more  than  a  month  this  wonderful  septugenarian  made 
the  tour  of  Europe,  to  London,  to  Turin,  to  Vienna,  to 
St.  Petersburg,  pleading  with  unsympathetic  governments 
for  intervention  in  behalf  of  France.  He  obtained  the 
expression  of  a  desire  for  an  armistice,  and  Bismarck 
consented  to  open  negotiations.  But  once  again  Thiers 
was  baffled,  this  time  by  his  very  friends.  Gambetta,  in 
the  provinces,  did  not  wish  to  link  the  name  of  republic  to 
an  inglorious  peace,  the  inevitable  result  of  an  armistice 
under  existing  conditions.  The  populace  of  Paris,  agi- 
tated by  theories  of  social  reforms,  and  irritated  at  the 
incapacity  of  its  generals,  coerced  the  authorities,  and 
would  not  listen  to  Thiers's  proposals.  The  siege  and 
the  desultory  war  dragged  on.  Paris  was  starved  into 
submission  in  January,  1 87 1,  and  all  resistance  disappeared 
with  its  surrender.  At  last  it  was  seen  that  some  regular 
administration  should  replace  the  temporary  expedient  of 
the  government  of  national  defense.  General  elections 


86  Ten  Frenchmen 

were  held  throughout  France,  and  in  February  a  new 
Assembly  met  at  Bordeaux. 

This  Assembly  wished  for  peace.  It  was  elected  with 
peace  in  view.  Because  the  republic  had  stood  for  war, 
under  Gambetta's  leadership,  only  a  minority  of  the 
deputies  were  republicans.  The  large  majority  was  com- 
posed of  monarchists  of  different  stripes.  A  few  were 
imperialists.  Yet  all  factions  united  to  put  at  their  head 
the  man  whose  opposition  to  the  war  and  whose  efforts 
for  peace  had  made  him  the  most  prominent  figure  in  the 
country.  Thiers  was  chosen  Chief  of  the  Executive 
Power  of  the  French  Republic,  with  the  mandate  to  make 
a  treaty  with  the  Germans,  a  duty  which  he  performed 
with  considerable  difficulty.  The  Prussian  demands  had 
been  already  indicated.  France  was  to  pay  for  the  cost 
of  the  war  and  in  addition  was  to  lose  her  eastern  prov- 
inces, Alsace,  always  a  German-speaking  land,  and  part  of 
Lorraine,  including  the  fortress  of  Metz.  It  was  the 
territorial  concession  which  made  Thiers 's  task  peculiarly 
painful.  The  deputies  from  Alsace-Lorraine  opposed 
their  denationalization  by  voice  and  petition.  But  no  way 
of  escape  could  be  found.  Belfort,  on  the  southern  edge, 
was  the  utmost  concession  allowed  by  Bismarck.  Under 
the  stress  of  necessity  the  Assembly  ratified  the  prelimi- 
naries of  peace,  and  in  May  the  treaty  was  concluded. 

Meanwhile  another  evil  had  threatened  to  destroy  the 
enfeebled  vitality  of  the  nation.  Discontented  with  the 
management  of  the  war  and  the  conditions  of  peace, 
smarting  under  the  rebuffs  administered  to  the  national 
honor  by  the  victorious  alien,  suspecting  the  royalist 
majority  in  the  Assembly  of  attempting  to  do  away  with 
the  republican  form  of  government,  lured  with  the  pic- 


Thiers  and  Republican  Principles  87 

tures  of  Utopias  where  labor  would  possess  all  the  rewards 
and  pure  democracy  would  protect  true  liberty,  equality, 
and  fraternity,  above  all  without  occupation  in  the  weeks 
of  transition  between  siege  and  peace,  the  laborers  of 
Paris,  under  the  leadership  of  daring  dreamers,  rose  in 
rebellion  and  endeavored  to  establish  an  independent  gov- 
ernment. The  Commune  was  an  echo  of  the  French 
Revolution,  fostered  by  the  social  theories  of  Saint 
Simon,  Fourier,  and  their  successors.  It  was  hostile  to 
all  restraint  of  law  or  property.  A  less  resolute  man 
than  Thiers  would  have  yielded  to  discouragement  and 
given  the  country  over  to  anarchy.  He  had  neither  army 
nor  means  at  hand.  But  he  saw  that  the  revolt  must  be 
suppressed.  At  his  suggestion  the  seat  of  government 
was  transferred  from  Bordeaux  to  Versailles.  An  army 
was  concentrated  there,  made  up  for  the  most  part  of  the 
troops  who  were  returning  from  German  prisons.  The 
conquest  of  Paris  was  attempted.  In  spite  of  a  desperate 
resistance,  which  lasted  over  six  weeks,  and  desolated  the 
very  streets  of  the  capital,  Thiers 's  wisdom  and  energy 
triumphed.  The  revolt  was  attended  by  all  the  horrors 
of  a  civil  war.  Class  hatred  intensified  its  bitterness, 
and  Rousseau's  argument  for  the  ills  born  of  civilization 
was  given  a  concrete  example.  Many  of  the  public  build- 
ings were  burned.  The  intention  of  the  communist  chiefs 
was  to  involve  the  whole  city  in  destruction.  Prompt 
action  saved  the  French  from  this  catastrophe,  but  the 
fall  of  the  Commune  left  its  aftermath  of  dissension  and 
ill-will. 

From  this  chaos  of  ruined  and  tottering  governments 
the  French  Republic  finally  emerged.  It  is  probable  that 
the  personality  of  Thiers  contributed  in  great  measure  to 


88  Ten  Frenchmen 

this  result.  During  the  last  years  of  the  Second  Empire 
he  had  been  gradually  led  to  the  opinion  that  a  republic, 
and  not  a  constitutional  monarchy,  would  be  the  outcome 
of  the  natural  political  movement  of  the  nation.  When 
Sedan  was  over  he  did  not  associate  himself  with  the  gov- 
ernment of  national  defense,  though  he  served  it  and  his 
country  to  the  best  of  his  ability,  and  after  the  new 
Assembly  was  elected,  he  strictly  adhered  to  the  agree- 
ment to  free  France  from  invasion  before  raising  the 
question  of  her  future  administration.  This  work  had 
been  done.  The  Republic  had  got  the  credit  for  it.  The 
Commune  had  been  ruthlessly  crushed.  Thiers  could 
therefore  expect  the  support  of  all  conservatives.  Sup- 
plementary elections  in  July,  1871,  had  added  to  the 
number  of  ,  republican  deputies.  All  these  things  con- 
spired to  make  the  moderate  royalists  acquiesce  in  the 
conditions  existing.  Agitation  was  feared.  The  repub- 
licans thought  they  saw  signs  of  a  royalist  plot.  The 
royalists  trembled  at  the  prospect  of  a  Jacobin  revolution. 
The  firmness  and  tact  of  Thiers,  who  was  now  wholly 
convinced  of  the  desirability  of  continuing  the  republican 
form  of  government  (a  conviction,  it  is  alleged,  which  was 
strengthened  by  the  dictates  of  his  private  ambition),  suc- 
ceeded in  drawing  together  the  more  reasonable  of  all 
groups.  On  August  30  he  was  formally  elected  president 
of  the  French  Republic,  and  given  the  power  to  consti- 
tute a  cabinet.  But  he  was  made  subject  to  the  vote  of 
the  Assembly.  In  reality  his  attributes  were  little  other 
than  those  of  a  prime  minister.  But  the  name  had  come, 
and,  as  the  sequel  showed,  the  thing  followed. 

In  the  treaty  of  peace  it  was  stipulated  that  the  with- 
drawal of  the  German  armies  should  be  in  proportion  to 


Thiers  and  Republican  Principles  89 

the  payment  of  the  indemnity.  This  indemnity  was  fixed 
at  five  milliards  of  francs — about  one  billion  dollars.  It 
was  thought  that  a  country  overrun  and  demoralized  as 
France  had  been  could  not  soon  rally,  and  there  is  no 
doubt  that  the  Germans  looked  forward  to  a  somewhat 
protracted  residence.  But  the  outcome  of  the  govern- 
ment appeals  to  provide  for  the  indemnity  was  most 
unusual.  Thiers  had  made  his  first  appearance  in  public 
life  as  a  secretary  in  the  Treasury  Department.  At  the 
age  of  seventy-four  he  was  called  upon  to  justify  this  early 
office.  The  Germans  were  paid  off  ahead  of  time,  and 
their  last  regiment  withdrew  in  September,  1873. 
"Liberator  of  the  territory"  is  the  title  which  public 
opinion  conferred  on  the  man  who  had  achieved  this  great 
result.  It  settled  Thiers's  position  with  posterity,  and 
yet  it  was  fatal  to  his  further  career  as  a  statesman. 

The  Assembly,  the  only  legislative  body  of  the  nation, 
was  supposed  to  dissolve  when  the  Germans  withdrew, 
and  allow  new  elections,  free  from  the  emotions  of  war, 
to  decide  the  future  of  France.  But  the  Assembly  was 
anti-republican.  The  majority  in  it  was  united  in  opposi- 
tion to  a  republic.  Late  in  1872  Thiers  brought  this 
opposition  to  a  head  by  proposing  that  the  Assembly  pro- 
ceed to  discuss  plans  for  a  permanent  constitution.  The 
majority  feared  that  such  a  measure  would  establish  the 
Republic  beyond  a  doubt.  They  now  sought  to  undermine 
Thiers  and  replace  him  with  a  president  in  harmony  with 
their  views.  The  radicals  unwittingly  aided  this  plan. 
Thiers's  intimate  friend  De  Remusat  was  defeated  in  a 
Paris  election  by  Barodet,  whom  Gambetta  championed. 
At  a  new  session  of  the  Assembly  in  May,  1873,  a  reso- 
lution was  proposed  for  discussion  which  Thiers  declined  to 


90  Ten  Frenchmen 

accept.  The  discussion  was  voted,  and  the  first  president 
of  the  Third  Republic  resigned  at  once.  He  was  suc- 
ceeded by  Marshal  MacMahon. 

But  the  conservative  coalition  was  still  only  a  negative 
one.  Partisans  of  the  old  dynasty,  known  as  Legitimists, 
the  Orleanists,  and  the  Bonapartists,  could  unite  against 
the  Republic,  but  could  not  agree  on  any  other  form  of 
government  to  take  its  place.  Shortly  after  the  accession 
of  MacMahon  a  deputation  from  the  royalist  factions  had 
waited  on  the  Comte  de  Chambord,  the  representative  of 
the  Bourbons.  It  seemed  as  though  a  throne  would  rise 
again  in  France.  But  his  conditions  were  impossible, 
particularly  a  sentimental  one,  which  demanded  the  sub- 
stitution of  the  old  fleur-de-lis  banner  for  the  tricolor  of 
the  Napoleonic  and  Franco-Prussian  wars.  MacMahon 
consequently  was  given  a  term  of  seven  years.  He  urged 
a  constitution.  In  1875  it  was  adopted.  It  provided  for 
a  Senate  and  a  Chamber  of  Deputies.  Thiers  had  voted 
for  it,  though  he  had  taken  little  part  in  the  debates  on 
this  or  other  subjects.  His  attention  was  mainly  given  to 
reconstructing  his  house  which  the  Commune  had 
destroyed,  and  the  preparation  of  a  treatise  on  scientific 
philosophy.  But  he  stood  again  for  election  in  1876. 
Belfort  named  him  senator  and  Paris  deputy.  He  chose 
the  latter  mandate,  which  seated  him  in  the  legislative 
body  that  was  nearer  the  people.  The  country  had 
returned  a  republican  majority,  and  MacMahon  was 
forced  to  form  a  cabinet  which  should  represent  its  opin- 
ions. This  cabinet  was  short-lived.  The  Marshal's  reac- 
tionary advisers  forced  his  hand.  He  dismissed  the 
ministry,  and  went  so  far  as  to  dissolve  the  House.  A 
royalist  coup  d'etat  was  feared.  Excitement  grew  apace. 


Thiers  and  Republican  Principles          91 

All  shades  of  republicans,  seeing  that  the  crisis  had  come, 
united  to  save  the  Republic.  Thiers  was  among  them. 
He  consented  to  stand  for  Paris.  His  electoral  manifesto 
had  been  partly  written.  But  before  it  could  be  finished 
a  stroke  of  apoplexy  brought  his  busy  life  to  an  end,  on 
September  3,  1877.  He  had  passed  his  eightieth  birthday. 

The  death  of  Thiers  only  preluded  the  triumph  of  that 
republic  in  which  he  had  come  at  last  to  believe.  It  still 
endures.  Its  foundations  seem  fixed.  It  will  transmit 
with  its  permanence  the  name  of  its  first  president  to 
posterity.  But  Thiers 's  services  to  the  state  in  the  time 
of  its  great  need  transcend  the  bounds  of  governmental 
polity,  and  appeal  to  all  Frenchmen  of  whatever  political 
creed.  He  had  the  satisfaction  of  enjoying  this  reward  in 
advance.  An  accident  had  revealed  it  to  him.  Just 
before  the  dissolution  of  the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  in 
June,  1877,  one  of  the  members  of  the  cabinet,  in  alluding 
to  the  liberation  of  the  territory  from  the  German  troops, 
had  given  the  credit  for  it  to  the  old  Assembly.  The 
effect  of  this  statement  was  electrical.  Leaping  to  his 
feet,  with  all  the  impetuosity  of  his  nature,  Gambetta 
stretched  out  his  hand  towards  the  white-haired  states- 
man, "There  is  the  liberator  of  the  territory!"  he  cried, 
while  with  almost  one  accord  the  deputies  rose  in  their 
places  to  do  homage  to  their  acknowledged  benefactor. 

Thiers  had  no  descendants.  His  will  bequeathed  to 
the  nation  the  collection  of  pictures  and  statuary  which 
had  adorned  his  house  in  Paris.  The  Thiers  Prize  in  his- 
tory had  previously  been  established  by  him  with  the  prize 
money  awarded  him  by  the  French  Academy,  in  1 86 1,  for 
his  "History  of  the  Consulate  and  Empire."  But  his 
chief  memorial  is  the  Thiers  Foundation,  maintained  by 


92  Ten  Frenchmen 

the  estate  left  by  his  widow,  through  which  five  scholars 
of  promise,  nominated  by  the  scientific  associations  of 
France,  are  generously  supported  for  a  period  of  three 
years. 

SELECTIONS   FROM    THE    WRITINGS    OF   THIERS 

Preface  to  the  '•''History  of  the  French  Revolution" 

I  propose  to  write  the  history  of  a  memorable  revolution 
which  has  moved  men  deeply,  and  which  still  divides  them  to-day. 
I  do  not  hide  from  myself  the  difficulties  of  the  enterprise,  for 
passions  which  were  supposed  to  be  stifled  under  the  influence  of 
military  despotism  have  just  been  awakened  again.  All  of  a  sud- 
den men  overwhelmed  with  years  and  labor  have  felt  sentiments 
revive  in  themselves  which  had  seemed  to  be  appeased,  and  have 
communicated  them  to  us,  us  their  sons  and  heirs.  But  if  we  have 
to  sustain  the  same  cause  we  have  not  to  defend  their  conduct, 
and  we  can  distinguish  the  liberty  of  those  who  served  it  well  from 
the  liberty  of  those  who  served  it  ill,  while  we  possess  the  advan- 
tage of  having  heard  and  observed  these  old  men  who,  still  full  of 
their  recollections,  still  agitated  by  their  impressions,  reveal  to  us 
the  spirit  and  character'of  the  parties,  and  teach  us  how  to  under- 
stand them.  Perhaps  the  moment  when  the  actors  are  about  to 
pass  away  is  the  time  best  suited  to  write  history;  we  can  listen 
to  their  testimony  without,  however,  sharing  all  their  passions. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  I  have  endeavored  to  still  all  sentiment  of 
hatred  in  my  soul.  I  have  in  turn  fancied  to  myself  that,  born 
under  a  roof  of  thatch,  animated  by  a  just  ambition,  I  have  wished 
to  acquire  what  the  pride  of  the  upper  classes  had  unjustly  refused 
me;  or  that,  reared  in  palaces,  heir  to  ancient  privileges,  it  was 
painful  for  me  to  renounce  a  possession  which  I  used  to  consider 
a  legitimate  right.  Henceforward  I  could  not  feel  any  irritation. 
I  have  pitied  those  who  waged  the  warfare,  and  I  have  found  a 
recompense  in  adoring  the  noble  souls. 


Thiers  and  Republican  Principles          93 

From  the  Speeches  on  the  Preliminaries  of  the  Treaty  of 
Peace  between  France  and  Germany 

[The  treaty  was  attacked  in  the  Assembly  by  Victor  Hugo  and 
others  because  it  looked  to  the  separation  of  Alsace-Lorraine. 
Thiers  replied  supporting  it.] 

If  there  was,  in  my  eyes,  one  single  chance  of  keeping  up  the 
struggle,  with  prospects  of  success,  never  would  I  have  imposed 
on  myself  one  of  the  greatest  griefs  of  my  life  in  signing  the  pre- 
liminaries of  the  treaty  I  have  brought  to  you.  It  is  the  absolute 
conviction  of  the  impossibility  of  continuing  that  struggle  which 
has  constrained  me  to  bow  my  head  under  the  might  of  the 
foreigner.  I  beg  you  not  to  ask  me  to  give  the  motives  for  my 
conviction.  My  silence  is  a  sacrifice  which  I  make  to  the  safety 
and  the  future  of  my  country.  Yes,  it  is  my  deep  conviction  that 
in  making  peace  to-day,  in  submitting  to  a  great  sorrow,  we  are 
saving  the  country's  future,  we  are  making  its  future  greatness 
sure.  It  is  this  hope  only,  this  hope  alone,  which  was  able  to 
bring  me  to  a  decision. 

I  give  the  Assembly  no  advice.  I  cannot  advise  it  except  by 
my  example.  I  repeat  I  have  imposed  on  myself  one  of  the  most 
cruel  sorrows  of  my  life.  (He  is  so  moved  as  to  be  obliged  to 
stop  a  moment  amidst  the  applause  of  the  Assembly.) 

(He  speaks  a  second  time.)  I  will  say  but  a  few  words;  but 
it  is  necessary  that  the  question  be  clearly  put  and  the  responsi- 
bilities exactly  assigned.  The  war  had  two  periods,  one  which 
followed  the  famous  declaration  you  have  just  condemned  and 
punished,  the  other  which  succeeded  the  4th  of  September*  I 
judge  no  one,  I  condemn  no  one;  I  am  convinced  that  every  one 
did  his  best.  I  was  a  stranger  to  both  periods.  If  the  war  was 
not  successful,  neither  I  nor  the  colleagues  the  Assembly  gave  me 
a  few  days  ago  can  be  accused  of  its  failure. 

When  I  was  obliged  to  negotiate  I  found  Sedan,  Metz,  and 
Paris  lost,  and  the  armies  dispersed  which  were  to  go  to  aid  the 
capital,  but  could  not  reach  it.  I  have  conducted  the  negotiations 
with  all  the  patriotism  of  which  I  was  capable.  I  struggled  for 
days  with  all  my  might.  I  was  not  able  to  do  better  than  I 
did.  . 


94  Ten  Frenchmen 

I  do  not  doubt  France's  strength,  but  I  doubt  its  present 
organization.  Its  military  organization  is  broken;  here  is  the 
secret  of  its  weakness. 

Why  was  that  organization  broken?  I  will  say  but  one  word 
on  the  subject,  without  going  into  details.  When  they  had  the 
madness  to  declare  war  last  July,  I  said  from  the  start  that  France 
was  not  ready.  When  they  had  infantry  regiments  of  thirteen 
hundred  to  fourteen  hundred  actual  men,  how  could  they  in  a 
week  raise  them  to  a  war-footing  of  three  thousand  men?  It  was 
impossible.  I  said  to  the  ministsrs:  "Set  me  before  the  Minister 
of  War  and  I  will  prove  to  him  that  VQU  are  not  ready,  that  you 
can't  be  ready."  .... 

Well,  let  some  one  come  now  and  tell  me  we  can  resist  an 
army  of  five  hundred  thousand  regular  troops.  I  will  tell  him  we 
cannot.  You  would  ruin  France,  you  would  impoverish  it,  you 
would  squander  its  last  resources  and  take  from  it  the  means  of 
reaching  that  future  you  hope  for,  and  of  which  I  catch  a  glimpse 
with  the  sole  satisfaction  I  can  feel  to-day. 

Yes,  gentlemen,  you  wish  other  destinies  for  the  fatherland. 
So  do  I.  I  eagerly  wish  for  them,  and  what  supports  me  at  my 
advanced  age  is  the  hope  of  being  able  to  aid  in  their  coming,  not 
for  very  long,  but  for  some  time  still.  To  accomplish  this  pur- 
pose you  must  know  the  truth,  you  must  have  the  courage  to  tell 
yourselves  the  truth  and  to  believe  it 

To  my  last  hour  I  shall  not  change  my  line  of  action  and  I  will 
do  all  I  can  to  make  my  countrymen  hear  the  entire  truth.  Six 
months  ago  they  would  not  listen  to  it.  More  recently  still  they 
would  not  listen  to  it.  But  I  am  not  discouraged.  If  you,  in  your 
turn,  will  not  listen  to  it,  you  will  make  me  very  unhappy  for  my 
country.  But  if  I  dared  say  so,  while  being  very  unhappy  about 
my  country,  I  would  perhaps  be  happy  for  myself  because  you 
didn't  believe  me.  I  would  have  thrown  off  the  burden  you  had 
confided  to  me,  and  I  would  thank  you  for  it,  though  weeping  over 
my  unfortunate  country. 

Gentlemen,  hear  the  truth.  But  if  you  do  not  know  where 
truth  is  to  be  found,  if  you  do  not  wish  to  listen  to  it  and  believe 
it,  you  may  boast  of  our  nation's  future,  it  will  be  a  vain  boast. 
You  will  ruin  it  at  the  very  moment  you  are  boasting  of  it. 


Thiers  and  Republican  Principles          95 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

A.  Thiers.     P.  de  Remusat. 
Life  of  Thiers.     F.  Le  Goff. 

Articles  in   The  Century  Magazine,   Vol.  I,  pp.  439   ff.,  and 
The  Chautauquan,  Vol.  XXV,  pp.  239  ff. 


CHAPTER   V 

GAMBETTA    AND   THE   THIRD    REPUBLIC 

[L£ox  MICHEL  GAMBETTA,  born  at  Cahors,  April  2,  1838; 
educated  at  the  Lyc6e  of  Cahors  and  Law  School  at  Paris; 
admitted  to  the  bar,  1860;  the  Baudin  trial,  November  14, 
1868;  elected  to  the  Corps  Legislatif  from  Paris  and  Mar- 
seilles, 1869;  Minister  of  the  Interior  in  the  Government  of 
National  Defense,  1870;  elected  to  the  Assembly,  1871;  leader 
of  the  majority  in  the  Chamber  of  1875;  President  of  the 
Chamber,  1879;  Prime  Minister,  1881;  died  at  Ville  d'Avray, 
December  31,  1882.] 

The  present  government  of  France  has  lasted  full 
thirty-three  years,  a  generation  of  humanity.  When  it 
was  established  few  believed  in  its  permanency,  and  it 
must  be  confessed  that  this  unbelief  was  reasonable. 
Since  the  French  Revolution  of  1/89  the  nation  had  seen 
half  a  score  of  administrations  of  greater  or  less  endur- 
ance, but  none  so  robust  as  to  reach  their  majority.  The 
Second  Empire,  the  longest  of  them  all,  died  in  its  nine- 
teenth year,  the  monarchy  of  Louis  Philippe  in  its  eight- 
eenth, the  Restoration  and  the  First  Empire  at  an  earlier 
age  even.  As  for  the  republics,  they  had  shown  still  less 
vitality,  and  the  more  recent  one  of  1848  had  proved 
weaker  even  than  the  older  republic  of  1793.  So  many 
political  overturnings  in  such  rapid  succession  could  well 
be  taken  as  indications  of  the  future.  They  showed 
unusual  instability,  greater  even  than  the  restlessness  of 
which  the  pulpit  orator  Bossuet  had  accused  England  in 

96 


LEON   MICHEL  GAMBETTA 


Gambetta  and  the  Third  Republic          97 

the  seventeenth  century.  Besides  it  was  well  known  that 
republicans,  pure  and  simple,  were  comparatively  rare  in 
France.  In  1852,  when  Napoleon  III  put  the  Empire 
to  the  test  of  a  popular  approval,  but  half  a  million  votes, 
representing  all  sorts  of  opposition,  were  polled  against 
it.  In  1870  the  half  million  had  increased  to  a  million 
and  a  half,  but  this  number  was  still  a  hopeless  minority. 
How  many  republicans  it  included  cannot  be  known. 
There  is  good  reason  to  believe  that  it  counted  more 
advocates  of  a  constitutional  monarchy  than  sincere  par- 
tisans of  a  republican  form  of  government.  Elections 
after  1870  showed  this  fact  plainly,  though  there  was  an 
apparent  drift,  as  we  have  noticed  in  the  case  of  Thiers, 
from  Orleanism  to  republicanism  as  the  only  possible 
solution  of  the  political  problem. 

The  elections  of  1863  had  returned  a  handful  of  repub- 
licans, together  with  Thiers,  to  the  Corps  Legislatif .  The 
election  of  1869  had  multiplied  their  number.  Among 
the  newcomers  was  Gambetta,  borne  into  political  life  on 
the  crest  of  a  legal  plea  of  a  political  nature.  If  Thiers 
was  to  found  the  republic  on  the  discord  of  its  opponents, 
this  younger,  genuine  democrat,  Gambetta,  was  to 
strengthen  its  foundations  by  winning  over  the  opposi- 
tion. He  was  a  Southerner  like  Thiers.  His  father  was 
a  Genoese  grocer,  who  had  settled  at  Cahors  and  married 
there.  He  named  his  first  child,  a  son,  born  April  2, 
1838,  Leon  Michel.  He  gave  this  son  the  education 
within  his  reach,  and  after  the  Cahors  lycee  (high  school) 
made  the  sacrifice  of  sending  him  to  Paris  to  study  law. 
Young  Gambetta  reached  the  capital  in  1857.  In  spite 
of  his  liking  for  argument  and  debate,  his  delight  in 
companionship  and  fondness  for  popularity,  in  spite  also 


98  Ten  Frenchmen 

of  the  loss  of  one  eye  from  an  accident  when  he  was  but 
eight  years  old,  he  seems  to  have  made  a  fairly  diligent 
student,  and  early  in  1860  was  admitted  to  the  bar. 

It  was  these  first  years  in  Paris,  years  of  work  and 
good  fellowship,  that  formed  Gambetta's  character  and 
showed  him  the  road  he  was  to  follow.  Like  all  students 
of  his  day  he  lived  in  the  students'  district,  the  Latin 
Quarter.  The  glory  it  had  inherited  from  the  men  of 
1830,  sculptors,  poets,  painters,  dramatists,  novelists, 
physicians,  still  lingered  in  its  tortuous  streets  and 
weather-stained  garrets.  The  flowing  locks  of  the 
romanticists  and  the  red  waistcoats  of  the  night  of 
Hugo's  "Hernani"  still  distinguished  its  more  devoted 
denizens.  The  evening  life  of  the  region  was  in  the 
cafes.  There  art,  philosophy,  religion,  literature,  politics, 
furnished  abundant  material  for  nightly  debate.  In  the 
cafes  the  eloquence  and  wit  of  Gambetta  found  ample 
room  for  display  before  an  admiring  circle.  Alphonse 
Daudet,  the  novelist,  has  chronicled  for  us  the  impres- 
sions made  upon  him  at  that  time  by  the  future  ruler  of 
France:  "The  Gambetta  of  those  days  was  sowing  his 
wild  oats,  and  was  deafening  with  his  thundering  elo- 
quence the  cafes  of  the  Latin  Quarter.  But  make  no 
error,  the  cafes  of  the  Quarter  at  that  epoch  were  not 
merely  the  saloon  where  you  drink  and  smoke.  In  the 
midst  of  Paris,  muzzled  by  the  Second  Empire,  without 
public  life,  without  newspapers,  those  reunions  of  a  studi- 
ous and  noble  youth,  true  schools  of  opposition,  or  rather 
of  legal  resistance,  remained  the  only  places  where  a  free 
voice  could  still  be  heard.  Each  of  them  had  its  own 
orator,  a  table  which  at  certain  moments  became  almost  a 
speaker's  desk,  and  each  orator  in  the  Quarter  had  his 


Gambetta  and  the  Third  Republic          99 

admirers  and  partisans Doubtless  some  of  our 

young  speakers  never  progressed,  grew  old  without  advan- 
cing, spoke  constantly,  and  never  did  anything 

But  Gambetta  was  not  of  that  number.  If  he  fenced  under 
the  gas  at  the  cafe,  it  was  only  after  he  had  filled  his  day 
with  real  labor.  As  the  factory  gets  rid  of  its  steam  at 
night,  he  came  there  to  let  his  surplus  vigor  and  ideas 
overflow  in  words.  This  did  not  at  all  prevent  him  from 
being  a  serious  student,  from  having  his  triumphs  at 
Mole's  lecture-hall,  from  being  promoted  in  his  courses 

and  winning  his  diploma Not  stout  as  yet,  but 

squarely  built,  stoop-shouldered,  with  familiar  gestures, 
already  liking  to  lean  on  a  friend's  arm  while  walking 
and  talking,  he  spoke  a  great  deal,  at  every  opportunity, 
with  that  hard,  strong  voice  of  the  South  which  cuts  off 
phrases  like  a  pendulum  and  stamps  words  like  medallions. 
But  he  also  listened,  questioned,  read,  assimilated  every- 
thing, and  was  laying  in  that  enormous  supply  of  facts 
and  ideas  so  necessary  to  any  one  who  claims  to  direct  a 
time  and  a  country  as  complicated  as  ours.  Gambetta  is 
one  of  the  rare  politicians  who  like  art  and  suspect  that 

literature  may  occupy  some  place  in  a  people's  life 

These  strolls  through  the  Art  Exhibitions  and  the  Louvre 
Museum  ....  had  given  Gambetta  a  reputation  for 
laziness  with  certain  verdant  statesmen,  stiff  and  starched 
since  childhood.  These  same  men,  now  grown  up, 
always  full  of  themselves  and  always  hermetically  sealed, 
take  him  to  be  a  frivolous  man  and  a  politician  lacking  in 
seriousness,  because  he  likes  the  company  of  a  witty  actor. 
At  the  very  most  this  would  prove  that  then,  as  to-day, 
Gambetta  knew  men,  and  knew  the  great  secret  of  making 
them  useful,  which  is  by  winning  their  affection.  A  char- 


ioo  Ten  Frenchmen 

acteristic  trait  will  finish  the  portrait  of  the  old  Gambetta. 
That  speaking-trumpet  of  a  voice,  that  terrible  talker, 
that  great  Gasconizer  was  not  a  Gascon.  Is  it  race  influ- 
ence? On  more  than  one  side  this  mad  son  of  Cahors 

came  near  to  Italian  prudence Speaking  often, 

always  speaking,  he  never  let  himself  be  carried  away  by 
the  whirlwind  of  his  speech.  Very  enthusiastic,  he  knew 
in  advance  the  precise  point  where  his  enthusiasm  should 
stop." 

Daudet's  sketch  indicates  the  traits  which  made  Gam- 
betta a  power  in  France.  He  was  friendly  to  all  men. 
He  was  careless  in  dress  and  companions,  thereby  disarm- 
ing the  jealousy  of  his  more  severe  and  better  bred  rivals. 
His  voice  overwhelmed  all  others,  and  the  flow  of  his 
words  swept  opposition  from  its  feet.  With  all  this,  while 
seemingly  on  fire  with  enthusiasm,  heating  the  emotion  of 
his  hearers  to  a  glow,  he  himself  was  a  cool,  observant 
master  of  his  own  actions  and  the  actions  of  those  he  had 
inspired.  Assiduous  in  the  collection  of  information,  he 
gradually  amassed  a  knowledge  of  things  and  men  which 
fully  atoned  for  his  lack  of  breeding  and  the  narrowness 
of  his  home  life. 

Admission  to  the  bar  had  been  gained  in  1860,  but  his 
life  at  Paris  had  weakened  his  constitution.  A  few 
months'  rest  became  imperative.  He  returned  to  Cahors 
to  recruit.  Restored  to  health,  the  question  of  locating 
himself  for  the  practice  of  his  profession  arose.  The 
father  felt  he  had  done  all  he  could.  The  son  longed  to 
try  Paris.  The  financial  difficulty  was  solved  by  the 
devotion  of  an  aunt,  who  moved  to  Paris  in  1861,  and  on 
her  small  income  started  housekeeping,  in  which  she  fig- 
ured as  both  servant  and  mistress.  In  this  way  her 


Gambetta  and  the  Third  Republic        101 

nephew  was  given  a  home  and  support,  until  the  slow 
remunerations  from  his  infrequent  briefs  should  bring  him 
a  livelihood.  Entering  law  offices  as  a  student  or  clerk 
he  got  now  and  then  a  case  of  a  political  nature,  and 
gradually  became  known.  His  native  eloquence  stood 
him  in  good  stead.  Lawyers  admired  it.  It  brought 
him  more  clients.  At  last  it  brought  him  success. 

The  coup  d'etat  of  December  2,  1851,  had  met  with 
slight  resistance.  Little  blood  had  been  shed.  Yet 
among  the  victims  was  Baudin,  a  member  of  the  As- 
sembly, shot  down  on  the  only  apology  for  a  barricade 
that  had  been  built.  Baudin,  however,  had  been  forgot- 
ten, until  a  book  on  the  coup  d'etat,  published  in  1868, 
revived  his  memory.  Then  the  republicans  seized  upon 
his  fate  as  a  means  of  annoying  the  government.  Speeches 
were  made  at  his  grave.  Certain  newspapers  began  to 
collect  funds  for  a  statue.  The  authorities  took  the 
matter  up  and  prosecuted  some  of  the  journalists  con- 
cerned. Among  the  lawyers  appearing  in  their  defense 
was  Gambetta,  and  his  speech  was  the  speech  of  the  trial, 
and  the  beginning  of  his  political  career.  In  it  he  de- 
nounced the  coup  d'etat.  He  contrasted  the  adherents  of 
Napoleon  III  with  his  opponents.  He  dilated  on  the 
dishonor  and  loss  of  prestige  which  the  foreign  policy  of 
the  Empire  had  brought  on  France.  He  satirized  the 
pretenses  of  the  government  in  the  light  of  its  accom- 
plishments. And  all  this  in  a  great  voice  that  drowned 
all  answers,  and  a  torrent  of  invective  which  the  imperial 
lawyers  could  not  stem.  Gambetta  had  seized  on  the 
"psychological  moment."  He  had  expressed  what  the 
nation  was  feeling.  His  words  penetrated  the  utmost 
corners  of  France,  and  carried  with  them  the  celebrity  of 


IO2  Ten  Frenchmen 

his  name.  This  was  in  November,  1868.  The  following 
May  two  districts  elected  him  to  the  Corps  Legislatif. 
He  declined  the  Paris  mandate  and  sat  for  Marseilles. 

During  the  months  that  followed,  so  long  as  the 
so-called  "Liberal  Empire"  endured,  under  Ollivier's 
premiership,  Gambetta  continued  in  parliament  the  atti- 
tude of  opposition  he  had  assumed  before  he  entered 
public  life.  As  is  seen  by  the  circumstances  of  his  birth, 
he  represented  a  lower  social  class  than  had  either  Thiers 
or  Guizot,  and  consequently  having  less  to  lose  than 
either  of  these  statesmen,  and  more  to  gain,  his  tendency 
was  more  radical  than  theirs.  He  was  a  democrat  from 
the  start,  an  advocate  of  a  republican  form  of  govern- 
ment, not  a  constitutional  monarchy.  His  political  plat- 
form included  the  separation  of  church  and  state  and  the 
election  of  all  public  officers  by  the  people.  Universal 
suffrage  was  his  idol,  and  in  words  at  least  he  never  for- 
sook it.  Napoleon  III  did  not  hold  his  mandate  from 
universal  suffrage,  he  said,  therefore  the  Empire  should 
give  way  to  an  administration  which  the  nation  should 
sanction.  All  plebiscites  were  thus  a  mockery.  With 
Thiers  and  the  straight-out  republicans  he  opposed  the 
declaration  of  war  against  Prussia.  Once  declared  he 
voted  for  the  measures  in  its  support.  When  Sedan  fell 
and  the  Corps  Legislatif,  by  its  procrastination,  allowed 
itself  to  be  overrun  by  the  mob,  Gambetta,  with  other 
deputies  from  Paris,  retired  to  the  City  Hall,  and  there 
from  one  of  the  windows,  by  Gambetta's  voice,  the  Repub- 
lic was  proclaimed.  This  was  on  September  4,  1870. 

In  the  hastily  formed  organization  which  now  under- 
took the  defense  of  the  country,  Gambetta  held  the  post 
of  Minister  of  the  Interior.  When  the  Germans  sur- 


Gambetta  and  the  Third  Republic        103 

rounded  Paris,  and  it  was  necessary  for  the  central  com- 
mittee there  to  keep  in  touch  with  their  adherents  in  the 
provinces,  Gambetta  was  chosen  as  ambassador.  With 
his  secretary  he  escaped  in  a  balloon  from  the  capital, 
beyond  the  lines  of  the  enemy,  who  almost  perforated  his 
carriage,  and  from  Tours  first,  afterwards  from  Bordeaux, 
directed  what  remained  of  national  resistance.  Filled 
with  the  traditions  of  1792,  when  the  citizen  soldiery  of 
France  met  and  vanquished  the  trained  veterans  of  mon- 
archical Europe,  he  would  not  be  discouraged  by  defeat 
or  discord.  With  his  burning  appeals  to  the  honor  of  the 
nation  he  roused  the  dormant  spirit  of  all  factions.  All 
united  to  furnish  men  and  means  to  resist  invasion.  But 
supplies  were  lacking,  officers  were  lacking,  even  maps 
and  charts  were  not  at  hand.  Hastily  raised  levies  under 
such  conditions  could  be  little  else  than  a  half-armed 
rabble  when  brought  in  contact  with  Von  Moltke's  per- 
fectly equipped  armies,  led  by  most  capable  generals. 

To  add  to  his  trials  Metz  surrendered.  Its  beleaguer- 
ing forces  were  thrown  at  once  on  his  patriotic  bands. 
Some  doubtful  battles  were  fought,  a  victory  or  two 
were  won.  But  such  scattered  successes  could  not 
affect  the  general  results.  The  odds  were  too  overwhelm- 
ing. Still  Gambetta  labored  and  planned,  encouraged  and 
ordered.  Even  the  fall  of  Paris  found  him  undaunted, 
but  the  entreaties  of  his  colleagues,  who  now  could  reach 
him,  broke  down  his  obstinacy.  Elected  to  the  Assembly 
which  met  at  Bordeaux  in  February,  1871,  he  sat  for  an 
Alsatian  district,  and  when  the  preliminaries  of  peace  were 
agreed  to  by  the  House,  he  left  the  session  together  with 
the  other  representatives  of  the  ceded  provinces.  He 
left  France  also,  and  during  the  whole  outbreak  of  the 


IO4  Ten  Frenchmen 

Commune  lived  in  retirement  at  St.  Sebastian,  just  across 
the  Spanish  frontier.  If  it  was  rest  he  sought  he  had 
well  earned  it.  The  amount  of  work  he  had  performed 
since  the  previous  October  was  well  nigh  incredible.  For 
four  months  he  had  practically  been  the  dictator  of 
France. 

The  Commune  had  been  crushed,  the  treaty  of  peace 
signed.  Elections  to  fill  vacancies  in  the  Assembly  had 
been  fixed  for  July.  Gambetta  returned  to  contest  a 
seat.  His  program,  as  before,  was  a  government  elected 
by  universal  suffrage,  with  the  education  of  the  lower 
classes,  particularly  the  peasant,  the  center  of  political 
conservatism,  to  an  appreciation  of  their  duty  towards 
society.  Such  a  government  would  naturally  be  a  repub- 
lic. He  was  elected  by  several  constituencies,  and  chose 
to  sit  for  Paris.  His  course  as  a  deputy  was  in  harmony 
with  his  platform.  He  lost  no  occasion  to  preach  republi- 
canism to  the  royalist  majority,  and  he  opposed  the 
declaration  made  by  the  Assembly,  when  Thiers  was 
elected  president,  that  it  had  the  right  to  vote  a  constitu- 
tion. It  should  have  been  dissolved  when  oeace  was  once 
assured. 

During  the  winter  and  spring  of  1872  he  kept  on  with 
his  political  proselyting,  traveling  about  the  country  and 
addressing  the  electors  on  each  and  all  occasions.  In 
these  speeches  he  developed  his  ideas  of  the  mission  of 
the  Republic.  It  should  uphold  the  good  results  of  the 
French  Revolution.  It  should  look  for  support  to  the 
lower  social  classes.  It  should  subordinate  the  church  to 
the  state  and  restrict  the  range  of  the  evils  arising  from 
clericalism.  When  these  things  were  done  a  new  and 
happier  life  would  prevail  in  France.  Between  times  he 


Gambetta  and  the  Third  Republic        105 

employed  .his  surplus  energies  in  editing  La  Republique 
Franfaise,  a  daily  he  had  founded  in  November,  1871. 
Such  persistency  in  pleading  for  a  larger  democracy 
naturally  displeased  the  majority  in  the  Assembly. 
Debates  grew  fierce.  His  endeavors  also  reacted  on 
Thiers,  and  caused  the  breach  between  him  and  the  House 
to  widen.  Finally,  as  we  have  seen,  in  April,  1873,  the 
election  of  a  radical  in  Paris,  whose  cause  Gambetta 
undertook,  over  a  member  of  the  Thiers  cabinet,  brought 
on  a  crisis.  The  majority  in  the  Assembly  insisted  on  a 
vote  committing  the  government  to  greater  conservatism. 
Thiers  replied  with  the  proposition  to  found  a  republic. 
He  was  outvoted  and  resigned.  His  resignation  brought 
Gambetta  to  the  front. 

MacMahon  was  president,  the  Due  de  Broglie  prime 
minister.  The  policy  of  the  new  administration  was 
openly  anti-democratic.  It  soon  showed  its  animus  by 
suppressing  a  radical  newspaper.  Gambetta's  speeches 
themselves  became  subject  to  discipline.  It  was  at  this 
time  that  the  throne  was  offered  on  the  part  of  the  major- 
ity to  the  Comte  de  Chambord,  and  declined  by  him  unless 
it  carried  with  it  the  white  flag  of  the  ancien  regime.  The 
failure  of  this  negotiation  resulted  in  a  vote  fixing  Mac- 
Mahon's  tenure  of  office  at  seven  years.  Meanwhile 
the  republicans  were  steadily  gaining  in  strength.  The 
extremists  among  them  were  quiet.  The  divisions  among 
the  monarchists  became  accentuated  after  the  demands  of 
the  Comte  de  Chambord  were  seen  to  be  inadmissible. 
The  royalists  were  disheartened  and  the  Bonapartists 
encouraged.  The  latter  began  to  display  unusual  activity. 
It  was  an  opportunity  for  the  republicans.  Under  Gam- 
betta and  Thiers,  now  united  in  a  common  purpose,  they 


io6  Ten  Frenchmen 

began  to  detach  adherents  from  the  cause  of  a  constitu- 
tional monarchy,  the  Orleanists  in  particular,  by  showing 
the  hopelessness  of  their  case  and  the  imminence  of  a  Bona- 
partist  restoration.  Gambetta,  radical  and  petty  bourgeois 
as  he  was  at  heart,  also  changed  his  tone,  and  took  occa- 
sion to  compliment  the  upper  bourgeoisie,  to  which  he  had 
been  steadfastly  hostile.  Thus  led  on  by  one  motive  and 
another,  by  fear  of  despotism  and  by  dread  of  lawlessness, 
the  moderate  men  of  the  Assembly  joined  together  in  a 
series  of  compromises  which  resulted  in  the  adoption  of 
a  constitution  for  France.  The  final  vote  was  taken  on 
February  25,  1875.  Its  most  important  provisions  estab- 
lished a  Senate  and  a  Chamber  of  Deputies,  gave  to  them 
conjointly  the  election  of  president,  and  fixed  the  latter's 
tenure  of  office  at  seven  years.  Gambetta  was  one  of  the 
most  important  factors  in  bringing  about  this  result.  To 
do  this  he  had  to  sacrifice  much  of  his  personal  opinion, 
and  retract  many  of  his  former  statements.  The  choice 
of  a  president  by  an  electoral  college  rather  than  by  uni- 
versal suffrage,  his  political  cure-all,  must  have  been  a 
particularly  hard  concession  for  him  to  make.  But  he 
made  it,  and  France  for  a  while  was  saved  the  dangers  of 
a  monarchical  reaction. 

But  only  for  a  time.  The  ensuing  elections  resulted 
favorably  to  the  republicans,  though  the  Senate,  chosen 
for  the  most  part  by  the  councils  of  the  various  "depart- 
ments" into  which  France  is  divided,  showed  a  reaction- 
ary majority.  In  the  Chamber  the  republicans  prevailed, 
but  soon  split  into  factions.  Besides,  MacMahon,  who 
owed  his  election  to  the  monarchists,  and  was  not  depend- 
ent on  popular  favor,  thought  that  his  duty  lay  in  the 
direction  of  conservatism,  and  gave  the  country  cabinets 


Gambetta  and  the  Third  Republic        107 

which  were  not  in  accord  with  the  legislative  majority. 
Still  Gambetta  was  for  peace.  He  counseled  moderation 
everywhere.  Only  the  clericals  and  their  pernicious 
influence  incited  him  to  invectives.  Finally  this  idea  of 
clericalism  became  too  strong  to  be  suppressed.  The 
republican  majority  adopted  it,  pressed  it  to  a  vote,  with 
the  result  that  MacMahon,  who  stood  for  quite  the  oppo- 
site, lectured  his  last  prime  minister,  who  had  not  yet 
been  defeated  in  the  Chamber,  for  his  subservience  to 
Gambetta,  and  practically  forced  his  resignation.  This 
proceeding  was  not  constitutional.  Furthermore,  it  was 
a  challenge  to  that  part  of  the  government  which  alone 
represented  universal  suffrage. 

Gambelta,  now  the  leader  of  the  majority,  lost  no  time. 
That  very  day  he  gathered  the  republicans  together,  pro- 
posed and  carried  a  resolution  not  to  support  any  ministry 
which  should  not  govern  according  to  republican  prin- 
ciples. At  the  regular  meeting  of  the  Chamber  on  the 
day  following  the  majority  ratified  the  resolutions  of  the 
republican  meeting.  MacMahon  answered  with  the  ap- 
pointment of  a  royalist  cabinet,  and  adjourned  the  Cham- 
ber for  a  month.  The  republicans,  under  Gambetta's 
guidance,  took  the  country  into  their  confidence  with  a 
manifesto.  All  factions  were  now  thoroughly  united. 
The  Chamber  met  again  for  a  few  days  in  June,  long 
enough  for  Gambetta's  dramatic  reference  to  the  "liber- 
ator" Thiers,  and  was  then  dissolved.  General  elections 
followed.  Again  the  republicans  were  united,  the  mon- 
archists divided.  Gambetta  caught  the  popular  ear  with 
the  cry  of  "irreconcilable  opposition"  to  the  Empire,  and 
with  the  statement  that  after  the  poll  was  once  known  the 
Marshal  could  do  nothing  but  submit  or  resign  ("se 


io8  Ten  Frenchmen 

soumettre  ou  se  dtmettre").  His  newspaper  was  prose- 
cuted by  the  authorities  for  contumacy,  and  Gambetta 
was  fined.  Yet  in  the  end  he  won  a  victory.  The  elec- 
tions did  not  return  the  desired  number  of  republicans,  the 
three  hundred  and  sixty-three  who  had  opposed  the 
Marshal  in  June,  but  the  party  still  had  a  majority,  and 
used  it  in  the  new  Chamber  to  unseat  its  opponents.  It 
also  refused  to  recognize  a  new  ministry  appointed  by  the 
marshal-president.  Furthermore,  following  Gambetta's 
lead,  it  declined  to  vote  the  budget.  MacMahon  yielded 
at  last.  The  republicans  controlled  the  next  cabinet  of 
December,  1877. 

Though  the  conservative  Marshal  refused  him  a  minis- 
terial office,  Gambetta  was  now  the  acknowledged  head  of 
the  governing  majority.  Unfortunately  for  his  reputation, 
the  merits  of  statesmanship,  which  had  shone  out  so 
brightly  in  times  of  adversity,  were  somewhat  beclouded 
or  even  eclipsed  during  this  period  of  prosperity.  Far 
from  conciliating  the  opposition  and  winning  over  its  less 
extreme  adherents,  he  antagonized  it  in  word  and  deed. 
During  the  senatorial  elections  of  the  autumn  of  1878  he 
repeatedly  assailed  "the  enemy"  of  clericalism  and  its 
connection  with  the  schools,  and  asked  for  the  suppression 
of  nonauthorized  religious  communities — practically  the 
measures  that  the  French  administration  is  pushing  to-day. 
He  also  demanded  the  discharge  of  all  magistrates  and 
office-holders  who  were  not  republicans.  The  newly 
elected  senators  now  gave  him  the  control  of  the  upper 
house,  and  MacMahon,  weary  of  the  fruitless  contest, 
concluded  to  resign.  Jules  Grevy  was  elected  in  his 
stead.  Gambetta,  who  might  have  been  president  per- 
haps, was  chosen  to  be  Grevy 's  successor  in  presiding  over 


Gambetta  and  the  Third  Republic        109 

the  Chamber.     This  office  he  discharged  with  fairness  and 
vigor. 

His  assumption  of  the  presidency  of  the  Chamber  was 
the  beginning  of  the  decline  of  Gambetta's  influence  in  . 
public  affairs.  His  policy,  which  aimed  at  compromises, 
moderation,  made  use  of  accidental  circumstances,  such 
as  divisions  among  the  reactionary  elements,  and  for  this 
living  from  hand  to  mouth  had  been,  perhaps  contemptu- 
ously, dubbed  "opportunism,"  was  not  based  on  any 
enduring  principle  of  government,  and  of  course  satisfied 
none  of  the  out-and-out  partisans,  who  are  always  in  a 
majority.  Consequently,  from  the  day  that  MacMahon 
resigned  and  the  republicans  took  entire  control  of  the 
administration,  he,  as  the  leader  of  the  republicans,  the 
man  who  had  done  most  to  bring  about  the  existing  con- 
ditions, was  attacked  on  every  side,  by  the  extreme  royal- 
ists, by  the  imperialists,  and  also  by  the  radicals  to  whom 
he  by  nature  and  environment  really  belonged.  He  was 
accused  of  all  kinds  of  misdeeds,  of  aiming  to  make  him- 
self dictator,  of  secret  intrigues  with  state  officials,  of  a 
desire  to  provoke  foreign  wars,  of  enriching  himself  at  the 
public  expense.  As  a  rule  these  attacks  were  passed  over 
in  silence.  Occasionally  he  would  come  down  from  his 
desk  and  reply  to  them  on  the  floor  of  the  House. 

There  was  one  reform  on  which  his  heart  was  set  and 
which  was  destined  to  prove  his  undoing.  Seeing  how 
parliamentary  government  was  made  impossible  by  the 
number  of  parties  of  various  shades,  from  legitimists  to 
radicals,  into  which  the  deputies  were  divided,  he  deter- 
mined to  try  to  change  the  mode  of  election  from  the  dis- 
trict to  the  "department."  For  instance,  he  would  have 
the  deputies  from  Paris  and  suburbs  elected  together  on 


no  Ten  Frenchmen 

a  general  ticket  ("scrutin  de  liste"  the  plan  was  called), 
representing  the  whole  department  instead  of  singly  by 
subdivisions  of  the  departments,  or  congressional  districts 
("scrutin  d'arrondissement").  In  this  way  he  claimed  that 
men  of  larger  caliber  would  be  nominated,  of  broader 
views,  less  dominated  by  local  interests.  He  also  hoped 
that  such  a  measure  would  diminish  the  number  of  fac- 
tions, and  force  the  people  into  two  great  political  parties. 
The  Chamber,  which  might  be  supposed  to  oppose  such 
a  law,  as  tending  to  diminish  the  importance  of  the  indi- 
vidual deputy,  finally  passed  the  bill,  in  May,  1881.  But 
the  Senate  rejected  it. 

General  elections  ensued  in  August.  Gambetta  stood 
for  two  Paris  districts,  and  was  elected  in  one.  His  plat- 
form was  one  of  opportunism  and  reform  combined.  In 
his  addresses  he  particularly  inveighed  against  violence, 
which  by  its  prominence  during  the  French  Revolution, 
and  again  in  the  Commune,  still  kept  many  conservatives 
away  from  the  republican  ranks.  When  the  new  Cham- 
ber met,  the  cabinet  was  engaged  in  the  expedition  to 
Tunis.  Its  policy  was  opposed  and  it  fell.  Gambetta, 
who  had  been  considering  the  question  of  the  premiership, 
consented  to  form  a  new  ministry.  His  efforts  met  with 
little  response  from  the  leading  republicans,  and  he  was 
forced  to  fall  back  upon  his  personal  following.  The 
impression  thus  made  was  unfavorable.  Various  meas- 
ures of  administration  contributed  to  the  irritation  of  the 
Chamber,  particularly  the  creation  of  a  ministry  of  agri- 
culture and  one  of  fine  arts,  and  the  appointment  of  con- 
servatives to  prominent  positions.  Finally  the  program 
of  the  new  cabinet,  which  included  reforms  in  the  civil 
service,  as  well  as  in  the  other  departments  of  government, 


Gambetta  and  the  Third  Republic        in 

and  a  project  for  election  by  a  "scrutin  de  liste,"  brought 
the  opposition  to  a  head.  After  but  sixty-six  days  of  ser- 
vice the  Gambetta  ministry  surrendered  its  charge. 

Its  head  returned  at  once  to  his  newspaper  work,  while 
continuing  to  discharge  his  duties  as  a  deputy,  and  speak- 
ing occasionally  in  the  Chamber.  His  last  speech,  in 
July,  1882,  was  on  the  Egyptian  question.  In  the 
autumn  of  that  year  he  retired  to  Ville  d'Avray,  near 
Versailles,  to  the  house  of  Les  Jardies,  which  Balzac  had 
once  occupied,  and  which  he  had  recently  bought.  There, 
on  November  27,  he  was  wounded  by  a  pistol  shot,  whether 
accidentally  or  by  design  has  never  been  satisfactorily 
proven.  It  was  reported  and  commonly  believed  that  his 
mistress  had  shot  him  in  a  quarrel.  His  friends  claimed 
it  was  only  an  accidental  wound.  Whatever  may  have 
been  the  occasion,  the  consequences  were  not  directly 
serious.  But  this  injury  preluded  a  severe  malady.  No 
sooner  was  the  hand  healed  than  a  disturbance  became 
manifest  in  the  abdomen.  The  symptoms  described  by 
the  attendant  physicians  resemble  those  that  are  caused 
by  appendicitis.  However,  no  operation  was  attempted. 
The  disease  went  its  way,  and  Gambetta 's  body,  spent  in 
many  years  of  storm  and  labor,  and  so  lately  shocked  by 
the  injury  to  his  hand  and  wrist,  offered  but  a  poor  resist- 
ance to  its  encroachments.  For  weeks  his  strength 
steadily  decreased.  He  alone  seemed  unable  to  appre- 
ciate his  decline,  but  talked  and  read  and  occupied  his 
thoughts  with  the  affairs  of  the  political  world.  The 
crisis  drew  near.  On  the  night  of  December  31,  1882, 
he  passed  away. 

With  the  death  of  the  great  republican  the  voice  of 
calumny  was  stilled.  The  antagonisms  he  had  aroused 


ill  Ten  Frenchmen 

subsided.  His  mistakes,  his  weaknesses,  were  willingly 
forgotten.  He  ceased  to  be  the  leader  of  a  party  in  the 
public  mind.  He  became  the  representative  of  the  whole 
nation.  For  it  was  he  alone  who  had  appealed  to  national 
honor  in  the  day  of  direst  calamity.  He  alone,  rallying 
the  sons  of  France,  had  led  them  undaunted  to  a  glori- 
ous defeat.  This  is  the  memory  which  France  cherishes 
of  Gambetta.  Some  of  the  measures  he  advocated,  notably 
those  against  clericalism,  have  since  become  laws.  But 
his  name  is  not  connected  with  them.  What  the  French 
people  think  of  Gambetta,  the  idea  which  he  stands  for  in 
their  minds,  is  expressed  in  unmistakable  terms  wrought 
out  of  stone  and  bronze.  After  a  state  funeral  had  been 
accorded  to  his  remains,  and  official  eulogies  had  been  duly 
pronounced,  a  popular  subscription  took  it  upon  itself  to 
perpetuate  his  memory.  In  the  outer  court  of  the  Louvre, 
fronting  a  broad  highway  which  connects  the  two  great 
divisions  of  the  city  of  Paris,  stands  a  granite  pedestal 
upholding  a  shaft  of  granite.  Allegorical  figures  of 
bronze  surround  and  crown  the  stone.  But  in  relief 
against  the  shaft,  clothed  in  his  customary  civilian  dress, 
Gambetta  rises  erect  among  a  group  of  the  French  people 
hovering  under  the  folds  of  the  French  flag.  And  above 
his  head  is  inscribed  the  words  of  i.:=  Tours  proclamation 
in  that  sad  autumn  of  1870:  "Frenchmen,  raise  your 
souls  and  your  resolutions  to  a  level  with  the  perils  burst- 
ing on  the  fatherland.  It  still  depends  on  you  to  show  to 
the  universe  what  a  great  people  who  will  not  perish  is  ' ' 


Gambetta  and  the  Third  Republic        113 

SELECTIONS    FROM    THE   WORKS   OF    GAMBETTA 

Extracts  from  the  Speech  at  the  Baudin  Trial 

[Gambetta  is  defending  the  journalist  Delescluze  for 'having 
solicited  funds  for  a  statue  to  Baudin.  He  begins  by  alluding  to 
the  speech  of  the  prosecuting  attorney,  and  continues :] 

I  agree  with  him  on  what  is  really  the  question  here.  Like 
him,  and  following  him,  I  come  to  discuss  that  terrible  question, 
the  highest  we  can  submit  to  men  whose  profession  is  to  respect 
justice  and  to  those  whose  calling  it  is  to  defend  justice.  Here 
is  the  question:  Can  there  exist  for  a  nation,  in  the  bosom  of  a 
civilized  society,  a  moment  when  state  policy,  when  state  violence, 
can  with  impunity,  under  pretext  of  public  safety,  violate  the  law, 
overturn  the  constitution,  and  treat  as  criminals  those  who  defend 
the  right  at  the  peril  of  their  lives?  .... 

I  do  not  knew  whether  I  am  deluding  myself,  but  it  seems  to 
me  that  the  last  place  where  such  assertions  should  be  made  and 
such  crimes  should  be  glorified  is  the  court  of  a  judge,  for  here 
law  alone  should  speak  and  be  heard.  Law  alone  should  be  the 
interest  and  the  passion  of  the  magistrate,  since  without  it  there 
is  nothing  lasting  and  respected,  since  without  it  all  social  cer- 
tainty disappears,  and  we  inevitably  end  in  anarchy,  with  all  the 
disorders  and  meannesses  it  involves.  I  ask  myself  whether  it  is 
in  this  especial  sanctuary  of  justice  that  it  will  be  allowed  to  con- 
tradict me? 

Do  you  recall  what  December  2  is?  Do  you  remember  what 
happened?  The  annals  have  just  been  taken  up  and  told  again  by 
M.  Tenot,  in  their  heart-rending  episodes.  You  have  read  this 
story,  limited  to  the  facts,  and  all  the  more  avenging  because  of 
its  impartiality.  You  know  what  blood,  and  griefs,  and  tears 
there  are  in  that  date.  But  what  must  be  said  here,  what  must  be 
touched  with  the  finger,  is  the  machination,  the  consequences,  the 
evil  caused  to  France,  the  trouble  made  in  consciences  by  this 
criminal  attempt,  it  is  this  which  constitutes  the  real  responsibil- 
ity. It  is  this  alone  which  can  make  you  appreciate  how  far  you 
owe  us  aid  and  protection,  when  we  come  to  honor  the  memory 
of  those  who  fell  defending  the  law  and  the  constitution,  which 
was  being  massacred. 


H4  Ten  Frenchmen 

Yes,  on  December  Second,  were  grouped  around  a  pretender 
men  whom  France  had  not  known  up  to  that  time,  who  had  neither 
talent,  nor  honor,  nor  rank,  nor  position,  people  such  as,  at  every 
epoch,,  are  accomplices  of  violence,  people  of  whom  you  can 
repeat  what  Sallust  said  of  the  rabble  that  surrounded  Cataline, 
what  Caesar  himself  said  in  tracing  the  portraits  of  his  accom- 
plices, eternal  offscourings  of  regular  society. 

Acre  alieno  obruti  et  vitiis  onusti 

"A  pack  of  men  ruined  by  debt  and  crime,"  as  Corneille  has 
translated.  It  is  by  this  kind  of  men  that  institutions  and  laws 
have  been  slaughtered  for  ages,  and  the  conscience  of  mankind  is 
powerless  to  react,  in  spite  of  the  sublime  procession  of  a  Socrates, 
a  Thraseas,  a  Cicero,  a  Cato,  of  thinkers  and  martyrs  who  protest 
in  the  name  of  immolated  religion,  of  wounded  morals,  of  right 
crushed  under  the  heel  of  a  soldier 

On  which  side  was  genius,  morals,  virtue?  All  had  gone 
down  under  the  foul  conspiracy !  .  .  .  . 

Those  who  seized  the  country  put  its  freedom  in  fetters,  made 
use  of  the  new  means  given  man  by  science  to  enter  into  com- 
munication with  one  another.  Centralization  and  terror  did  the 
work.  Paris  was  deceived  by  means  of  the  provinces,  the  prov- 
inces by  means  of  Paris !  Steam  and  the  telegraph  became  the 
instruments  of  power.  They  spread  through  all  the  departments 
that  Paris  had  yielded !  Yielded !  It  was  assassinated.  Yielded ! 
It  was  struck  down  with  bullet  and  grape-shot.  I  who  am  speaking 
to  you,  I  had  friends — do  you  understand? — who  were  killed  as  they 
came  out  of  the  Law  School.  They  were  unarmed.  It  is  true 
that  they  were  very  rash  and  very  guilty  to  have  come  to  study 
law  in  a  country  where  law  is  respected  in  such  a  way 

At  the  end  of  seventeen  years  of  reign  you  perceive  it  would 
be  a  good  thing  to  forbid  the  discussion  of  these  facts  by  means 
of  a  posthumous  ratification  given  out  from  a  police  court.  No, 
it  shall  not  be  so.  No,  you  will  not  give,  you  cannot  give,  this 
satisfaction,  for  there  exists  no  court  of  appeals  for  this  case.  It 
was  judged  yesterday,  it  will  be  judged  to-morrow,  the  day  after 
to-morrow,  forever,  without  truce  or  armistice,  until  justice  has 
received  its  supreme  satisfaction.  This  trial  of  December  Second, 


Gambetta  and  the  Third  Republic        115 

whatever  you  may  do,  will  remain  living  and  ineffaceable  at  Paris, 
at  London,  at  Berlin,  at  New  York,  in  the  whole  woild,  and  every- 
where the  universal  conscience  of  man  will  pronounce  the  same 
verdict. 

There  is  already  something  besides  which  judges  our  adver- 
saries. Listen!  For  seventeen  years  you  have  been  the  absolute 
masters  of  France  and  governed  it  at  your  discretion — the  state- 
ment is  your  own.  We  do  not  ask  what  use  you  have  made  of  her 
treasure,  blood,  honor,  and  glory.  We  will  not  speak  of  her 
integrity  compromised,  nor  of  what  has  become  of  the  fruits  of 
her  industry,  without  mentioning  the  fact  that  no  one  is  ignorant 
of  the  financial  catastrophes  which  at  this  very  moment  are  explod- 
ing like  mines  beneath  our  footsteps.  But  what  best  judges  you, 
because  it  is  the  witness  of  your  own  remorse,  is  that  you  have 
never  dared  say:  "We  will  celebrate  December  Second  as  a 
national  anniversary,  we.  will  place  it  among  the  festivals  of 
France !"  And  yet  all  the  governments  which  have  succeeded  one 
another  in  this  country  have  honored  the  day  that  saw  their  birth. 
They  have  celebrated  July  Fourteenth,  August  Tenth.  The  days 
of  July,  1830,  have  also  been  celebrated,  as  well  as  February 
Twenty-fourth.  There  are  but  two  anniversaries,  the  Eighteenth 
Brumaire  and  December  Second,  which  have  never  been  put 
among  the  national  festivals,  because  you  know  that  the  universal 
conscience  of  man  would  reject  them  if  you  wished  to  place  them 
there. 

Well,  this  anniversary  which  you  have  refused,  we  claim  it,  we 
take  it  for  our  own.  We  will  always  celebrate  it,  always.  It  will 
be,  each  year,  the  anniversary  of  our  dead,  until  the  day  when  the 
country,  becoming  master  once  again,  will  inflict  on  you  the  great 
national  expiation  in  the  name  of  liberty,  equality,  fraternity. 

From  a  Speech  of  January  26,  1882,  Defending  the 
Scrutin  de  Liste 

[Gambetta  affirms  the  necessity  of  electing  the  deputies  by 
departments  instead  of  by  districts.  The  vote  which  followed 
forced  his  resignation  as  premier.] 

I  hear  very  well  the  answer:  No.  Well,  you  will  see,  gentle- 
men, that  the  near  future  will  prove  the  wisdom  of  my  words,  and 


n6  Ten  Frenchmen 

for  this  reason,  because  I  have  the  deep  inner  conviction,  when  I 
resist  you,  when  I  struggle  against  you,  that  it  is  my  sad  and 
imperious  duty  to  declare  to  you  that  it  is  a  governmental  neces- 
sity  

I  can  only  meet  your  apprehensions  with  my  loyalty,  the  sin- 
cerity of  my  words,  the  plans  we  have  made  ready,  my  past,  in 
short,  and  I  appeal  to  your  consciences. 

Yes,  I  think  that  the  republican  legion  with  which  I  began  my 
career,  with  which  I  have  passed  through  the  struggles  and  tests 
of  years,  will  no  more  fail  us  on  the  day  of  success  than  it  failed  us 
on  the  day  of  battle.  In  any  case  it  will  be  without  bitterness, 
especially  without  the  shadow  of  a  wounded  personal  feeling,  that 
I  shall  bow  before  your  verdict.  For  whatever  may  have  been 
said,  there  is  something  which  I  set  above  all  ambitions,  even  law- 
ful ambitions,  and  that  is  the  confidence  of  the  republicans,  with- 
out which  I  could  not  accomplish — I  indeed  have  some  right  to  say 
it — my  task  in  this  country,  the  restoration  of  the  fatherland. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 

The  Evolution  oj  France  under  the  Third  Republic.  Pierre  de 
Coubertin. 

Life  of  Leon  Gambetta.  (The  Statesmen  Series.)  Frank  T. 
Marzials. 

Articles  in  LittelVs  Living  Age,  Vol.  CLVI,  pp.  667  ff .  Century, 
Vol.  Ill,  pp.  708  ff.  Critic,  Vol.  XXXVII,  pp.  72  ff. 


VICTOR  MARIE   HUGO 


CHAPTER  VI 

VICTOR   HUGO 

[VICTOR  MARIE  HUGO,  born  at  Besai^on,  February  26,  1802; 
educated  at  Madrid  and  Paris;  prize  poems,  1819,  journalist, 
1819;  "Odes,"  1822;  "Hernani,"  1830;  "Notre-Dame  de 
Paris,"  1831;  elected  to  the  French  Academy,  1841;  peer  of 
France,  1845;  deputy  to  the  Assembly,  1848;  in  exile,  1851; 
in  residence  at  Guernsey,  1855;  return  to  France,  1870; 
deputy,  1871;  senator,  1876;  died  at  Paris,  May  22,  1885. 
Works:  poems,  dramas,  novels,  essays.] 

The  nineteenth  century  in  France  witnessed  one  of  the 
greatest  manifestations  of  her  literary  genius.  It  acknowl- 
edged, in  fact,  but  two  rivals  in  the  annals  of  the  nation. 
Once,  when  after  the  conquest  of  Sicily  and  England  by 
the  Normans,  and  the  surging  of  the  knights  and  peasants 
of  the  West  to  the  invasion  of  Asia  and  the  rescue  of  the 
Holy  Sepulcher,  the  young  society,  born  of  these  move- 
ments, broke  out  into  Troubadour  song.  Again,  when 
after  the  last  bulwark  of  the  Byzantine  Empire  had  fallen, 
and  Greek  learning  had  finally  been  driven  from  its 
ancient  seats,  after  Columbus  had  discovered  a  new  world, 
and  the  rude  soldiery  of  Charles  VIII  had  discovered 
Italy,  the  revival  of  learning  and  ancient  art  and  culture 
formed  the  Pleiades,  inspired  Montaigne,  and  shaped  the 
talent  of  Corneille,  Moliere,  Racine,  and  Bossuet.  Deep 
social  movements  gave  birth  to  the  mediaeval  and  the 
Greek  renaissances.  As  profound  a  stirring  of  man's 
emotions,  the  humanitarian  crusade  of  a  Voltaire  and  a 

117 


1 1 8  Ten  Frenchmen 

Rousseau,  the  democratic  crusade  of  the  armies  of  the 
Republic  and  Empire,  brought  forth  the  romantic  and 
realistic  literature  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

The  writers  of  the  nineteenth  century  were  eminent  in 
all  branches  of  composition.  They  admitted  the  suprem- 
acy of  the  seventeenth  in  drama,  in  philosophical,  oratori- 
cal, or  epistolary  prose.  But  they  claimed  the  preemi- 
nence, even  over  the  twelfth  and  the  sixteenth,  in  lyric 
poetry,  and  over  the  seventeenth  and  the  eighteenth  in 
criticism  and  historical  prose ;  and  they  stood  without  rivals 
in  the  field  of  fiction.  Among  their  representatives  some 
few  authors  united  many  of  their  excellencies.  None 
combined  them  in  a  higher  degree  or  showed  greater  origi- 
nality and  vigor  than  Victor  Hugo,  poet,  dramatist,  orator, 
novelist. 

Hugo  is  deservedly  called  the  great  writer  of  the  nine- 
teenth century.  His  life  was  almost  contemporaneous 
with  its  decades.  He  was  born  on  February  26,  1802, 
at  Besancon,  in  the  west  of  France.  The  locality  was  of 
no  consequence,  for  the  family's  stay  there  was  but 
temporary,  occasioned  merely  by  the  military  duties  of 
the  older  Hugo,  an  officer  in  the  French  army.  For  the 
same  reasons  the  family  soon  moved  south,  wandered 
over  the  islands  of  Corsica  and  Elba,  then  to  Paris  (1805- 
1807),  again  to  Italy,  and  again  to  Paris  (1808).  Finally, 
in  1811,  it  moved  to  Spain,  where  Victor  attended  school 
at  Madrid,  and  received  his  first  impressions  of  Spanish 
scenery  and  architecture.  In  1812  it  was  once  more  the 
turn  of  Paris,  and  this  time  permanently.  The  father 
was  away  on  campaigns.  The  young  Victor  was  given 
over  to  the  care  of  his  mother  and  an  ex-priest.  He 
passed  his  leisure  hours  in  the  garden  of  the  old  convent, 


Victor  Hugo  119 

where  they  made  their  home,  or  in  reading  the  literature 
of  the  century  just  gone.  As  he  himself  sings  in  his 
"Lights  and  Shadows":  "I  had  in  my  blond  infancy — 
alas!  too  fleeting — three  masters,  a  garden,  an  old  priest, 
and  my  mother." 

Under  the  Restoration  this  irregular  education  was 
systematized  by  attendance  at  a  private  school  which  had 
affiliations  with  a  Parisian  lycee  (high  school).  Victor 
showed  proficiency  in  both  language  and  science.  He 
won  honorable  mention  in  physics  at  a  general  municipal 
examination  of  the  pupils  in  his  grade,  composed  French 
tragedies,  and  wrote  poems,  both  original  and  translated. 
In  the  latter  instance  he  showed  particular  fondness  for 
Virgil,  and  Virgil's  influence  was  to  prove  a  lasting  one. 
Some  poetry,  provoked  by  prize  competitions  under  the 
auspices  of  the  French  Academy,  received  favorable  men- 
tion (in  1817  and  in  1819),  and  called  the  attention  of  the 
literary  public  to  his  precocious  talent.  In  1819  he  com- 
peted for  prizes  which  had  been  offered  by  the  Academy 
of  Floral  Games  at  Toulouse,  and  won  two.  This  suc- 
cess was  partially  repeated  in  1820.  In  December,  1819, 
together  with  his  two  older  brothers,  he  had  begun  a 
fortnightly  review,  Le  Conservateur  Litteraire,  to  which  he 
contributed  poetry,  criticisms — among  them  an  article  on 
Scott's  "Ivanhoe" — and  fiction.  A  small  pension  from 
the  king  rewarded  his  efforts. 

The  tide  of  literature  was  now  strongly  setting  towards 
romanticism.  Already  in  school  Hugo  had  imbibed  the 
mysticism  of  the  melancholy  Ossianic  poetry,  which 
reflected  the  shadowy  mists  of  the  Scottish  Highlands, 
filled  with  calm  brooding  over  a  vain  and  transitory  life. 
He  had  also  made  himself  acquainted  with  Chateaubriand, 


12O  Ten  Frenchmen 

the  idol  of  his  generation,  a  noble,  who  during  the  Revo- 
lution, weary  of  a  fruitless  existence  in  his  own  land,  had 
fled  from  its  scenes  of  violence  and  had  carried  his  bitter 
hopelessness  across  the  Atlantic,  had  visited  Niagara, 
skirted  the  old  French  settlements  of  western  Pennsyl- 
vania, looked  on  the  sources  of  the  Ohio,  and  crossed  its 
watershed  to  the  ocean  again.  What  he  had  seen  of  fron- 
tier life  and  the  vastness  of  American  forests  kindled  his 
imagination.  He  rose  from  the  real  to  the  conceivable, 
which  he  argued  from  the  real,  and  seizing  his  pen,  wrote 
the  epic  of  the  New  World  in  his  romances  of  "Atala" 
and  "Rene"."  His  was  a  blase  hero,  seeking  refuge  for 
fanciful  ills  among  the  wild  tribes  of  a  virgin  continent. 

But  Chateaubriand  drew  also  from  other  springs  of 
inspiration  than  nature's.  The  worship  of  nature  he  had 
found  in  Rousseau.  His  egotistic  melancholy,  which 
buried  itself  in  nature,  had  come  from  within  him.  But 
his  admiration  for  the  Middle  Ages,  a  large  element  in 
the  broader  manifestation  of  romanticism,  and  bearing 
with  it  a  revival  of  the  Christian  faith,  after  the  skepti- 
cism of  the  philosophers  of  the  school  of  Locke  and 
Hobbes  had  worn  itself  threadbare,  he  had  inherited 
from  his  English  and  German  predecessors.  This  he 
handed  down  to  his  compatriots  in  his  "Genius  of  Chris- 
tianity." He  was  Hugo's  great  teacher,  after  Virgil.  In 
both  of  these  masters,  the  romancer  and  the  poet,  thought 
and  style  blended  to  a  charm. 

By  1820,  however,  romanticism  was  no  longer  content 
with  its  conquest  of  prose.  It  was  seeking  an  outlet  for 
its  feelings  in  another  rhythm  than  the  harmonious,  pic- 
turesque period.  Lyric  poetry  had  for  generations  lain 
dormant  in  France.  The  new  voice  of  passion  and  long- 


Victor  Hugo  121 

ing  was  now  to  arouse  it,  recall  it  to  its  younger  days. 
Lamartine  wrote  his  "Lake"  and  the  "Meditations."  To 
the  French  people  of  that  time  (1820)  it  seemed,  as  has 
often  been  quoted,  that  the  world  had  changed  during  the 
night.  Hugo  could  not  remain  untouched  by  this  event, 
for  his  temperament  was  such  that  he  vibrated  with  every 
motion  of  the  nation.  Though  saturated  with  Ossian  and 
Chateaubriand,  his  political  ideas  as  a  strict  adherent  of 
the  Bourbons  had  hitherto  kept  him  a  regular,  a  classicist, 
in  literature.  He  was  also  a  devout  churchman,  and  the 
'new  religion  was  suspected  of  heresy. 

Certain  domestic  trials,  however,  shook  his  steadfast- 
ness to  the  legitimist  and  the  classical  cause.  His  mother, 
practically  the  only  parent  he  had  known,  died  in  1821. 
His  projected  marriage  with  a  friend  of  long  standing, 
Adele  Foucher,  was  opposed  by  her  family,  because  of 
financial  reasons.  From  these  sorrows  Hugo  sought 
refuge  in  poetry,  and  in  1822  published  his  first  volume 
of  "Odes."  It  attracted  little  attention,  for  it  lacked  the 
personal  note,  and  Lamartine,  whose  verse  expressed  the 
emotions  of  the  individual  soul,  could  not  be  dethroned  by 
objective  harmonies,  however  sonorous  their  cadence. 
Still  the  "Odes"  advanced  Hugo's  fortunes,  and  his  mar- 
riage shortly  followed.  But  at  the  wedding  banquet  his 
brother  Eugene  went  mad,  a  serious  grief  to  Victor.  In 
the  following  year  he  consented  to  give  out  something  of 
his  inner  self  to  the  public.  The  strange  romance  of 
"Han  d'Islande, "  suggested  by  the  blood-and-thunder 
school  of  English  fiction,  in  which  the  hero  cherishes  a 
tender  affection  for  a  lovable  woman,  revealed  some  of  the 
author's  trials  in  his  own  courtship.  And  his  inner  nature 
was  to  be  again  stirred  within  him.  A  child  was  born  to 


122  Ten  Frenchmen 

him.  Its  life  was  short,  but  Hugo's  sorrow  was  lasting. 
It  entered  into  his  very  being,  and  was  reflected  in  the 
verses  of  his  after  years. 

The  romanticists  by  this  time  had  formed  a  well-defined 
circle,  and  Hugo  became  one  of  the  group.  They  met 
in  the  offices  of  a  new  journal,  La  Muse  Franfaise,  and  also 
at  the  rooms  of  one  of  the  romantic  pioneers,  Charles 
Nodier,  the  author  of  fairy  stories,  romances,  and 
"Trilby."  They  incited  Hugo  to  the  composition  of 
new  "Odes,"  which  appeared  (1824)  with  a  preface  that 
proclaims  poetical  liberty.  These  were  followed,  in 
1826,  by  another  fantastic  romance  on  West  Indian  slav- 
ery and  revolt,  "Bug-Jargal,"  and  the  same  year  by  a  new 
volume  of  "Odes  and  Ballads,"  where  Hugo's  household 
poetry  begins  under  the  influence  of  his  little  daughter 
Leopoldine. 

In  1827  he  attempted  dramatic  poetry  in  a  drama 
which  was  not  intended  for  acting.  As  the  tragedy  of 
the  seventeenth  century,  which  was  modeled  after  the 
drama  of  Greece  and  Rome,  chose  for  a  subject  the  inter- 
esting episode  in  the  life  of  an  individual,  and  studied  that 
one  event  alone,  so  Hugo,  now  an  out-and-out  romanti- 
cist, sets  over  against  this  dramatic  ideal  the  broader 
theme  of  the  whole  delineation  of  a  man.  This  man  was 
none  other  than  Oliver  Cromwell,  whose  various  charac- 
teristics are  brought  out  as  he  meets  with  enemies,  friends, 
astrologers,  or  relatives.  Accompanying  "Cromwell" 
was  a  long  preface,  in  which  Hugo  advocated  at  length 
the  theatrical  doctrines  of  the  new  sect.  The  great 
exemplar,  he  asserts,  is  Shakespeare.  Like  him  the 
French  playwrights  should  aim  to  present  broad  pictures 
of  life,  rather  than  restricted  crises,  should  mingle  the 


Victor  Hugo  123 

serious  with  the  humorous,  should  no  longer  be  bound  by 
the  time  limit  of  twenty-four  hours  for  the  supposed 
action,  nor  by  one  single  place  for  its  exposition.  But 
the  scenery,  plot,  and  characters  should  be  true  to 
nature,  for  "everything  which  is  in  nature  is  in  art" — a 
dogma  carried  to  the  bitter  extreme  by  later  French  nov- 
elists. 

It  is  interesting  to  trace  the  development  of  a  genius. 
By  the  beginning  of  1828,  when  Hugo  was  as  yet  hardly 
twenty-six  years  old,  he  had  passed  his  formative  period 
'and  already  was  the  great  poet,  dramatist,  and  novelist 
that  we  know.  In  the  next  ten  years  poem  succeeded 
poem,  play  followed  play,  with  marvelous  rapidity.  In  a 
new  edition  of  the  "Odes  and  Ballads,"  in  1828,  the  poet 
breaks  the  traditional  mold  of  classical  rhythm.  Under 
the  influence  of  the  great  critic  Sainte-Beuve,  he  adopts 
the  measures  of  the  Pleiades  school  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury, fails  to  always  observe  a  fixed  caesura,  or  pause  in 
the  middle  of  the  line,  and  deliberately  carries  the  sense 
over  from  one  line  to  the  next,  thus  producing  overflow 
verse,  which  had  also  been  tabooed  by  the  classicists.  In 
politics  he  had  undergone  as  significant  a  change.  From 
the  Bourbon  of  the  beginning,  and  the  fervent  royalist,  by 
successive  steps  he  had  grown  into  a  Bonapartist,  and  in 
1827  had  welcomed  the  reviving  glory  of  the  Empire  in 
his  famous  "Ode  to  the  Vendome  Column." 

Both  of  these  conversions,  the  literary  and  the  political, 
were  in  keeping  with  the  march  of  events.  For  Hugo 
ever  showed  himself  most  sensitive  to  the  currents  of 
popular  opinion.  The  Napoleonic  legend  was  gaining 
headway,  as  the  splendor  of  the  imperial  sway  dimmed 
the  memory  of  the  suffering  on  which  it  was  grounded. 


124  Ten  Frenchmen 

Be"ranger's  poetry  had  made  the  Little  Corporal  an  idol  of 
the  fireside.  He  had  sung,  in  Young's  translation, 

"Ay,  many  a  day  the  straw-thatched  cot 
Shall  echo  with  his  glory!" 

So  Hugo,  reminding  his  audience  that  his  father  had  been 
a  general  under  the  Corsican,  carried  Napoleon's  praises 
into  a  higher  social  circle.  And  together  with  these  eulo- 
gies he  couples  the  praise  of  a  peaceful  home,  the  medita- 
tions of  a  philosophic  dreamer,  the  description  of  current 
events,  or  even  the  images  of  the  mysterious  East,  with 
all  its  color  and  fire  of  passion. 

He  launched  also  a  series  of  romantic  dramas,  begin- 
ning with  "Hernani,"  in  1830.  All  the  theories  of 
"Cromwell"  he  here  strives  to  convert  into  dramatic  facts, 
and  purposely  applies  to  the  versification  of  the  play  the 
heresies  he  had  learned  from  Ronsard  and  his  associates 
of  the  Pleiades.  The  classicists,  who  still  stood  for  the 
dramatic  ideals  and  verse  of  Corneille  and  Racine,  were 
warned  in  advance  that  the  gauge  of  battle  was  to  be 
thrown  down  to  them  in  "Hernani."  They  gladly  took 
it  up,  but  as  they  entered  the  theater  on  the  fateful  night 
of  its  first  representation  they  found  the  strategic  points 
occupied  by  their  foes,  a  Spartan  band  of  authors,  paint- 
ers, musicians,  disciples  of  the  new  creed,  gathered  from 
the  Latin  Quarter,  and  led  by  the  poet  Theophile  Gautier, 
whose  costume,  which  included  a  scarlet  vest  and  the 
flowing  locks  that  are  now  typical  of  the  artistic  world, 
was  in  itself  a  shock  and  offense  to  the  periwigged  purists. 
The  combat  was  unequal.  The  lungs  of  the  recruits 
from  the  garrets  and  studios  were  invincible.  Besides, 
they  had  a  winning  cause  to  champion,  for  French  poetry 


Victor  Hugo  125 

contains  few  passages  that  can  rival  "Hernani"  in  lyric 
beauty.  The  classicists  tvere  routed,  horse  and  foot, 
and  though  on  succeeding  evenings  they  returned  to  the 
charge,  the  advantage  on  the  whole  remained  with  their 
opponents. 

Hugo  followed  up  the  success  of  "Hernani"  with 
several  other  plays,  but  with  the  exception  of  "Ruy 
Bias"  (1838),  and  also  perhaps  "Marion  Delorme" 
(1831),  they  verged  too  much  on  the  blood-and-thunder 
of  his  early  romances,  and  have  disappeared  from  sight. 
Finally  the  production  of  "The  Burgraves, "  in  1843,  met 
with  such  a  chilling  reception,  because  of  its  impossible 
events  and  stage  effects,  that  it  confirmed  in  itself  the 
restoration  of  the  classical  drama  which  was  already  under 
way. 

This  interval  of  time  (1828-1843)  showed  Hugo  in 
other  capacities  than  as  poet  or  dramatist.  He  had  con- 
tinued his  role  as  critic,  already  essayed  while  a  journalist. 
He  had  begun  his  career  as  a  reformer,  by  pamphlets 
directed  against  capital  punishment,  as  the  gruesome  and 
harrowing  "Last  Days  of  a  Condemned  Man"  (1829). 
He  had  become  the  recognized  head  of  the  new  "Cenacle" 
of  authors,  artists,  and  contributors  to  the  romantic  organ, 
Le  Globe,  which  numbered  such  celebrities  as  Alfred  de 
Musset,  De  Vigny,  Sainte-Beuve,  the  elder  Dumas,  and 
the  painter  Delacroix.  He  had  published  a  narrative  of 
travel  in  Germany  under  the  title  of  "The  Rhine"  (1842). 
He  had  received  the  honor  of  an  election  to  the  French 
Academy  (1841),  after  having  solicited  it  three  times  to 
no  purpose.  But  most  important  of  all  he  had  published, 
in  1831,  his  great  novel  of  "Notre-Dame  de  Paris,"  com- 
posed under  pressure  in  the  short  interval  of  six  months, 


126  Ten  Frenchmen 

begun  with  the  first  drop  of  a  quart  bottle  of  ink,  he  says, 
and  finished  with  the  last  drop. 

In  this  romance,  which  mingles  nineteenth-century 
ideas  and  fifteenth-century  manners,  we  get  a  glimpse  of 
the  Hugo  of  "Les  Mise"rables."  It  is  the  people  of  Paris 
under  Louis  XI  which  he  endeavors  to  portray,  their 
amusements,  occupations,  crimes,  spirit.  And  through- 
out this  narrative  of  the  life  of  the  crowded  capital,  with 
its  courts,  its  squares,  its  thieves'  quarter,  the  Cour  des 
Miracles,  its  places  of  public  torture  and  executions,  runs 
the  praise  of  its  great  center,  the  metropolitan  cathedral, 
with  its  towers  and  buttresses,  its  volutes,  sculptures, 
altars,  and  high  arches,  a  steadfast,  immovable  rock  amid 
the  swirl  of  human  passions  that  eddy  about  it,  and  flood 
at  times  its  portals.  Some  of  the  book  we  have  seen 
before.  Characters  and  episodes  have  been  drawn  from 
the  older  stories  of  "Han  d'Islande"  and  "Bug-Jargal," 
molded  again  and  perfected.  The  long  chapters  of  eulogy 
on  Gothic  architecture  may  have  been  suggested  by 
Hugo's  early  admiration  for  Chateaubriand.  But  what 
had  not  been  previously  revealed,  even  in  a  glimpse,  was 
the  fairy-like  figure  of  Esmeralda,  a  picture  of  youth, 
gayety,  and  innocence,  in  bright  contrast  to  the  ugliness 
of  a  Quasimodo  and  the  gloom  of  cloister  and  hovel.  In 
"Notre-Dame  de  Paris"  we  also  catch  the  fondness  of 
Hugo  for  symbolism.  The  cathedral  is  the  material  sign 
of  the  immaterial  thought.  With  its  slow  accretions  of 
chapels  and  naves,  of  decorations,  grotesque  or  beautiful, 
it  embodies  the  life  of  generations  of  the  people,  who  have 
thus  wrought  their  transitory  being  into  its  immutable 
forms.  And  in  its  larger  meaning,  the  people  of  Paris 
taken  as  an  epitome  of  humanity,  the  novel  tells  the  story 


Victor  Hugo  127 

of  man's  struggles  against  his  destiny,  against  the  unseen, 
the  supernatural. 

Esmeralda,  the  young  girl,  is  no  doubt  the  ideal  image 
of  Hugo's  devotion  to  his  own  children,  particularly  to  his 
daughter  Leopoldine.  And  up  to  the  time  of  the  publica- 
tion of  "Notre-Dame  de  Paris"  nothing  which  was  within 
his  power  had  lessened  the  joy  of  his  family  life.  We  have 
noticed  how  he  had  wooed  and  won  the  love  of  his  youth, 
triumphing  at  last  over  all  opposition.  He  had  been 
faithful  to  this  love,  and  the  union  had  been  thrice  blessed 
since  the  death  of  the  first  born.  Here  surely  was  a 
happy  household,  destined  to  greater  happiness  as  the 
years  rolled  by,  a  constant  source  of  inspiration  for  the 
talent  of  its  father  and  protector.  And  as  we  know  it  did 
inspire  him.  From  his  poems  on  infancy  and  childhood 
a  whole  volume  has  been  made,  appropriately  called  "The 
Mother's  Book."  Why,  then,  was  this  picture  torn,  its 
brightness  tarnished?  Was  it  because  of  merited  and 
continuous  praise  bestowed  on  one  who  after  all  was  only 
a  mortal,  and  who,  unable  to  withstand  its  glorification 
began  to  look  on  himself  as  in  all  ways  perfect  and  inca- 
pable of  doing  evil?  Or  was  it  a  simple  infatuation?  It  is 
difficult  to  decide.  All  we  know  is  that  one  of  the  minor 
parts  of  "Lucretia  Borgia,"  a  tragedy  by  Hugo,  played  in 
1833,  was  filled  by  an  actress  of  mediocre  fame,  Juliette 
Drouet.  But  her  beauty  was  alluring,  if  not  her  ability, 
for  all  critics  unite  in  praising  it.  It  touched  Hugo.  He 
renewed  the  romantic  days  of  his  early  flame.  He  carried 
her  away  from  her  unworthy  surroundings,  domiciled  her 
close  to  his  own  dwelling,  and  made  her  his  lasting  confidante 
and  companion.  Many  of  the  finest  passages  of  Hugo's 
verse  were  called  out  by  this  extraordinary  association. 


128  Ten  Frenchmen 

It  was  at  the  end  of  this  period  of  unusual  literary 
activity,  when  all  things  had  conspired  to  secure  the  hap- 
piness of  his  genius  and  exalt  his  fame,  that  Hugo  met 
with  the  greatest  sorrow — if  we  may  judge  from  its  per- 
manence— of  his  whole  career.  In  1843  his  daughter 
Le"opoldine  had  become  the  bride  of  Charles  Vacquerie, 
a  family  friend  of  long  standing.  A  few  months  later  the 
young  couple  went  for  a  sail  on  the  Seine.  The  boat 
upset.  The  husband,  unable  to  save  the  wife,  preferred 
to  die  with  her.  They  were  found  locked  in  each  other's 
arms.  To  Hugo  this  event  was  a  catastrophe.  In  a 
volume  of  verse,  "The  Contemplations,"  published  in 
1856-1857,  he  separates  the  poems  written  before  1843 
from  those  written  after  that  date.  Many  of  the  anni- 
versaries of  the  accident  are  marked  by  his  compositions, 
mile-stones  on  the  road  of  sorrow.  Here  is  a  portion  of 
one,  written  a  year  later,  in  1844,  as  given  in  Dean  Car- 
rington's  translation: 

When  we  our  life  together  led 

On  the  hillside,  now  long  ago, 
Where  waved  the  trees,  and  waters  sped, 

Where  the  house  hugged  the  wood  below — 

She  was  ten  years — thrice  ten  was  I. 

I  was  the  universe  to  her. 
How  sweet  the  grass,  how  clear  the  sky, 

Beneath  the  thick  green  woods  of  fir. 

My  lot  she  glad  and  happy  made, 
My  labors  light,  and  blue  my  sky; 

When  she  "My  father!"  to  me  said, 
My  full  heart  would  "My  God!"  reply. 

'Mid  thousand  dreams,  by  fancy  wrought, 
I  heard  her  prattle,  fond  and  bright; 


Victor  Hugo  129 

My  forehead,  shadowed  o'er  with  thought, 
Her  merry  glance  o'erflowed  with  light. 

And  when  her  little  hand  I  took, 
Like  a  princess  she  proudly  trod, 

And  always  would  for  flowers  look, 
And  for  the  poor  upon  the  road. 

She  was  like  angels  of  the  skies — 
How  charmingly  she  greeted  you ! 

Heaven's  grace  had  placed  within  her  eyes 
The  look  that  could  not  be  untrue. 

I  was  so  young  when  she  was  born 

To  shine  upon  my  destiny; 
She  was  the  child  of  my  glad  morn, 

The  star  of  dawn  that  lit  my  sky. 

And  then  how  glad  she  was  —how  gay, 
Sweet  angel,  with  unspotted  mind ! 

But  all  these  things  are  past  away — 
Gone  like  a  shadow,  or  the  wind ! 

The  death  of  Leopoldine  put  a  stop  for  a  time  to  the 
outward  literary  work  of  Hugo.  He  continued  to  write 
poetry,  and  was  already  planning  "Les  Miserables, "  part 
of  which  he  committed  to  manuscript.  But  to  the  public 
he  was  now  an  Academician  and  a  politician.  His  taste 
for  the  latter  calling  had  been  increased  by  his  appoint- 
ment to  the  peerage  in  1845,  under  Louis  Philippe.  He 
sat  in  the  upper  house  and  took  part  in  debates,  proving 
himself  to  be  an  orator  of  considerable  power.  Political 
changes  were  pending  in  France.  Hugo,  with  his  mobile 
temperament,  keenly  alive  to  the  veerings  of  the  popular 
compass,  felt  them.  Already  an  ardent  admirer  of  Napo- 
leon, his  humanitarianism,  shown  so  strikingly  in  "Notre- 


130  Ten  Frenchmen 

Dame  de  Paris,"  inclined  him  to  democratic  views  of  state 
management.  He  was  a  liberal  now,  perhaps  in  theory  a 
republican  even.  But  he  did  not  openly  advocate  a  repub- 
lic. When  the  Revolution  of  1848  came,  and  Louis 
Philippe  fell,  Hugo  stood  for  a  Paris  constituency  on  a 
conservative  republican  platform.  He  failed  once,  but 
was  elected  a  second  time.  In  the  following  autumn  he 
favored  Louis  Napoleon  as  presidential  candidate.  But 
in  1849,  when  he  was  reelected  to  the  Assembly,  he  sud- 
denly appeared  as  a  radical — his  critics  say  because  he  saw 
greater  possibilities  of  preferment  in  a  party  which  could 
claim  few  members  of  eminence.  From  now  on,  instead 
of  sharing  in  the  Napoleonic  revival,  to  which  he  had  so 
greatly  contributed,  he  opposed  with  word  and  pen  the 
pretensions  of  Napoleon's  nephew.  No  longer  a  conser- 
vative, he  seized  every  opportunity  to  extol  the  French 
Revolution,  and  based  his  hopes  for  a  future  France  on 
universal  suffrage,  with  the  attachment  of  what  is  now 
known  as  the  referendum.  Such  extreme  views  only 
paved  the  way  for  the  Second  Empire.  The  coup  d'etat 
of  December  2,  1851,  came;  Baudin  was  killed;  Hugo 
escaped  arrest,  and  for  two  days  sought  to  incite  resist- 
ance. But  few  responded  to  his  appeals,  and  he  soon  fled 
in  disguise  to  Brussels. 

A  new  career  was  opened  for  Hugo  by  the  coup  d'etat. 
It  added  to  his  endowments  as  an  author  the  qualifications 
of  a  political  agitator.  From  the  time  he  reached  Belgium 
until  he  came  back  to  Paris,  after  Sedan,  he  did  not  cease 
to  assail,  in  prose  and  verse,  the  Second  Empire,  its  ruler, 
its  leading  men,  its  measures.  He  might  have  accepted 
the  amnesty  of  1859  had  his  hostility  allowed  him,  but  he 
preferred  to  remain  a  living  protest  against  the  crime  of 


Victor  Hugo  131 

December  Second.  At  first  his  exile  was  vexatious. 
Napoleon  had  been  elected  ruler  of  the  French,  and  as 
such  was  acknowledged  the  head  of  the  state.  Conse- 
quently, when  Hugo  put  through  the  press,  in  1852,  a 
most  virulent  attack  on  him  in  the  prose  work  "Napo- 
leon the  Little,"  the  Belgian  government  refused  him 
further  shelter.  He  moved  on  to  the  Channel  Islands 
and  took  up  his  residence  in  Jersey,  where  his  family 
joined  him.  Here  he  produced  that  marvelous  collection 
of  invective  poetry,  "The  Chastisements"  (1853),  where 
in  a  series  of  pen  pictures  we  find  that  Napoleon's  expia- 
tion for  his  crimes  was  not  to  be  the  Russian  campaign, 
nor  Waterloo,  nor  yet  St.  Helena,  but  his  nephew  Louis. 
He  also  composed  the  "History  of  a  Crime,"  namely  the 
coup  d'etat,  but  this  narrative  was  not  published  until  1877. 
Soon  further  trials  came  to  the  exiles.  France  and  Eng- 
land, having  formed  an  alliance,  were  engaged  in  the 
Crimean  War.  This  was  gall  and  bitterness  to  the  band 
of  French  patriots  in  Jersey,  and  often  did  they  inveigh 
against  it  in  their  newspaper,  L'Homme.  Finally,  when 
Queen  Victoria  visited  Paris  and  met  the  Emperor,  a  letter 
to  the  Queen,  most  insulting  in  its  tenor,  was  printe  in 
this  sheet.  The  inhabitants  of  the  little  island  were 
aroused.  They  called  on  the  governor  to  act.  He  ex- 
pelled the  editors,  and  the  Hugos  sailed  away  to  Guern- 
sey. This  removal  took  place  in  the  autumn  of  1855. 

From  1855  to  1870  Hauteville  House,  on  the  island  of 
Guernsey,  was  one  of  the  most  notable  buildings  of  Europe. 
As  the  Second  Empire  waned  and  the  protests  of  the  French 
radicals  won  a  hearing  Hugo  gradually  advanced  in  public 
esteem  until  he  became  quite  as  important  a  figure  as  any 
monarch  of  them  all.  And  then  his  fame  as  an  author 


132  Ten  Frenchmen 

was  constantly  increasing.  "The  Contemplations,"  a 
collection  of  meditative,  lyric,  and  philosophical  verse, 
published  in  two  volumes  in  1856  and  1857,  "The  Legend 
of  the  Ages"  (1859),  where  the  history  of  mankind  in  its 
typical  episodes  is  sung  in  almost  epic  strains,  and  the 
lighter  themes  of  "The  Songs  of  the  Streets  and  the 
Woods"  (1865)  were  accompanied  by  "Les  Miserables" 
(1862),  "The  Toilers  of  the  Sea"  (1866),  "The  Man 
Who  Laughs"  (1869)  for  romances,  and  "William 
Shakespeare"  (1864),  a  sounding  eulogy  of  the  dramatist 
and  also  of  Victor  Hugo;  for  the  egotism  of  the  latter 
had  enough  on  which  to  feed.  And  pamphlets  multiplied 
without  number,  appeals  to  this  and  to  that,  articles  against 
slavery,  remonstrances  against  the  execution  of  John 
Brown,  satires  on  the  mal-administration  of  the  Second 
Empire.  No  question  debated  in  either  hemisphere  was 
foreign  to  Hugo's  mind.  Such  a  combination  of  political 
and  literary  renown  has  hardly  been  equaled.  Pilgrim- 
ages to  Hauteville  House  became  the  fashion.  Every- 
thing was  admired,  the  manuscripts  of  unpublished 
masterpieces,  the  sketches  which  whiled  away  leisure 
hours — for  Hugo  possessed  considerable  artistic  talent — 
and  adulation  rose  higher  and  higher,  as  one  disciple 
crowded  the  other  at  the  feet  of  "the  master." 

But  a  word  or  two  regarding  the  novels  which  have 
entered  into  the  world's  literature.  "Les  Miserables," 
begun,  as  we  have  seen,  before  1848,  had  been  shaped 
and  enlarged  by  that  event  and  its  political  conse- 
quences, until  it  became  quite  truly  the  romance  of  the 
outcast  and  down-trodden.  Somewhat  of  the  symbolism 
of  "Notre-Dame  de  Paris"  is  visible  in  its  pages.  There 
is  the  struggle  of  man,  of  the  individual,  this  time  not 


Victor  Hugo  133 

against  fate,  the  intangible,  supernatural,  but  against  his 
fellowmen,  against  society.  There  is  the  great  material 
abode  for  the  victims  of  social  laws,  the  galleys,  ever 
yawning  to  receive  Jean  Valjean.  They  dominate  the 
scene,  not  so  toweringly  as  the  cathedral  had  done  in 
"Notre-Dame,"  but  quite  as  vividly.  And  then  the  agent 
of  the  law,  typified  in  Javert,  the  police  automaton, 
which  cannot  comprehend  the  fact  that  a  lawbreaker  may 
cease  to  be  a  criminal,  and  when  the  fact  becomes  too 
potent  to  be  ignored,  despairs  of  its  own  rightfulness  and 
commits  suicide.  The  young  girl,  too,  reappears,  trans- 
formed from  the  airy  Esmeralda  into  the  gentle  Cosette, 
and  the  young  man,  whose  early  history  is  the  history  of 
Hugo  himself.  But  the  teaching  of  "Les  Miserables"  is 
not  the  doctrine  of  despair.  In  that  respect  it  differs  from 
"Notre-Dame."  Jean  Valjean,  though  he  tries  in  vain 
to  redeem  his  faults  in  the  eyes  of  man,  is  justified  by  the 
infinite,  and  receives  even  in  this  life  the  reward  of  an 
upright  conscience,  free  from  all  reproach.  And  the  same 
hope  is  found  in  "The  Toilers  of  the  Sea,"  a  story 
suggested  by  Guernsey  scenery.  The  fisherman,  wild 
and  true,  conquers  in  vain  the  ocean  and  its  monsters. 
His  light-headed  sweetheart  sails  away,  while  he  buries 
himself  in  the  element  he  had  overcome.  But  the  symbol- 
ism is  apparent.  Man  fights  with  nature,  the  waves,  and 
the  animate  but  unconscious  devil-fish.  And  man  wins 
the  fight.  Hugo  is  becoming  optimistic. 

The  ruin  of  the  Empire  brought  Hugo  back  to  Paris 
amid  the  acclamations  of  the  populace,  which  crowded 
the  streets  of  the  great  town.  He  was  shut  up  in  the  city 
by  the  Germans,  occupied  himself  in  encouraging  resist- 
ance, appealed  to  the  enemy  to  cease  their  warfare,  wrote 


134  Ten  Frenchmen 

poems  on  scenes  and  events  suggested  to  him  by  the 
times.  After  the  siege  he  was  elected  to  the  Assembly 
from  the  "department"  of  the  Seine,  and  spoke  in 
favor  of  continuing  the  war  rather  than  abandon  Alsace- 
Lorraine.  He  opposed  clericalism,  and  resigned  his  seat, 
when  attacked  for  a  eulogy  of  Garibaldi.  During  the 
Commune  he  stayed  at  Brussels,  where  he  had  gone  on  a 
business  errand.  His  sympathies  were  to  a  certain  degree 
with  the  Communists,  and  therefore  for  a  second  time  the 
Belgian  government  requested  him  to  make  his  residence 
elsewhere.  He  afterwards  failed  of  reelection  to  the 
Assembly,  and  when  in  1876  he  was  named  senator  it  was 
too  late  for  him  to  exert  much  influence  in  political  life. 
But  as  a  private  citizen  he  never  ceased  to  champion  the 
cause  of  the  oppressed,  whether  they  were  oppressed 
wrongfully  or  rightly. 

Apart,  then,  from  these  early  months  of  1871,  Hugo's 
attention  after  his  return  from  exile  is  almost  entirely 
given  up  to  literature.  The  poetry  he  had  written,  and 
in  which  Napoleon  III,  the  Prussians,  and  the  priests 
came  in  for  denunciation,  was  published  in  1872,  under 
the  title  of  "The  Terrible  Year."  Before  this,  during 
his  stay  at  Guernsey,  the  wars  of  the  Reds  and  the  Blues, 
in  Vendee  during  the  French  Revolution,  had  suggested 
an  historical  novel,  which  saw  the  light  in  1874,  as 
"Ninety-Three."  Its  manner  is  the  manner  of  "The 
Toilers  of  the  Sea. ' '  Inanimate  nature  furnishes  once  more 
the  symbolism.  A  feudal  castle  is  the  central  picture, 
the  fight  of  a  man  with  a  ship's  cannon,  which  had  broken 
loose  from  its  moorings,  recalls  the  struggle  of  the  fisher- 
man with  the  devil-fish.  Here  again  man  triumphs,  mind 
conquers  matter.  Children  occupy  a  prominent  place  in 


Victor  Hugo  135 

the  narrative,  and  it  is  a  mother's  love  which  solves  the 
plot,  by  inciting  the  leader  of  the  Blues  to  rescue  her  little 
ones  at  the  sacrifice  of  his  own  freedom,  and  the  future 
of  his  cause.  But  the  mass  of  new  publication  consisted 
of  poetry.  "The  Legend  of  the  Ages"  received  consider- 
able additions,  while  philosophical,  satirical,  and  lyric 
verse  filled  several  good-sized  volumes. 

The  last  fifteen  years  of  Hugo's  life,  1870  to  1885, 
were  passed  in  the  midst  of  such  popularity  as  rarely  falls 
to  the  lot  of  a  mortal.  Adulation  almost  reached  the 
heights  of  apotheosis.  With  the  exception  of  some  politi- 
cal opponents,  the  extreme  clericals,  whom  he  had  offended 
by  his  attacks,  and  the  more  aristocratic  set  of  the  nobil- 
ity, all  France  looked  upon  him  as  the  embodiment  of  the 
nation's  genius.  Pilgrimages  to  his  house  at  Paris  multi- 
plied, literary  men  and  those  wishing  to  be  such,  natives 
of  Besancon  and  exiles  from  Alsace,  tourists  and  notables 
from  foreign  lands,  schemers  in  finance  or  politics,  the 
needy  and  the  hare-brained,  all  crowded  into  his  drawing- 
room  in  gratification  of  curiosity  or  in  hope  that  a  word 
from  the  great  man  might  be  used  to  their  temporal  or 
professional  advantage.  There  were  daily  receptions, 
almost  daily  addresses  from  individuals  or  delegations,  an 
existence  that  truly  seemed  founded  on  declamation. 
And  yet  Hugo  reserved  time  for  work — eight  volumes  of 
poetry  between  1877  and  1883,  a  drama,  "Torquemada," 
which  was  not  played,  and  the  "History  of  a  Crime." 
For  his  habits  had  become  fixed.  He  gave  his  forenoons 
to  intellectual  pursuits,  and  the  regularity  of  his  hours 
produced  in  the  long  run  unusual  results.  He  was  fond 
of  recreation  also.  Frequent  excursions  to  the  suburbs  of 
Paris,  to  which  his  favorite  conveyance  was  the  top  of  an 


136  Ten  Frenchmen 

omnibus  or  a  third-class  seat  in  a  railway  coach,  formed 
his  chief  delight.  His  white  head  and  beard,  his  pink 
cheeks  and  sparkling  dark  eyes,  became  one  of  the  few 
sights  of  the  capital  that  were  known  to  all  its  inhabitants. 
He  even  took  part  in  balloon  ascensions,  whereby  he 
showed  his  Gallic  temperament. 

But  the  ideal  side  of  these  later  years  is  most  strongly 
seen  in  his  relations  with  his  grandchildren.  Since  the 
death  of  Leopoldine,  in  1843,  he  had  been  called  upon  to 
mourn  his  wife,  who  had  passed  away  at  Brussels  in  1868, 
his  son  Charles,  stricken  down  with  apoplexy  in  1871, 
while  on  his  way  to  his  father's  rooms,  his  other  son, 
Francois,  who  succumbed  to  a  long  illness  in  1873,  and 
his  youngest  child,  Adele,  who  had  inherited  the  family 
insanity.  There  were  left  to  him  his  friends,  the  ever- 
faithful  Madame  Drouet,  and  Charles's  two  children, 
Georges  and  Jeanne.  His  delight  in  childhood,  always 
keen,  grew  even  greater  in  the  presence  of  these  comforts 
of  his  declining  years.'  They  became  his  chief  concern. 
Their  joys,  sorrows,  health,  maladies,  games,  studies  were 
his  constant  occupation,  and  furnished  his  muse  with  a 
never- failing  source  of  literary  material.  In  1877  a  num- 
ber of  the  poems  addressed  to  them  were  collected  in  a 
volume  called  "The  Art  of  Being  a  Grandfather."  The 
art  is  a  simple  one — indulgence.  Do  whatever  the  grand- 
child asks  you  to  do.  This  grandfather  did  so,  and 
boasted  of  it  in  many  a  line  of  delightful  rhythm.  And 
as  Hugo's  household  poetry  is  perhaps  not  so  well  known 
abroad  as  his  other  work  we  cite  the  "Grandfather's 
Song,"  a  rhyme  for  children's  rounds,  also  from  Dean 
Carrington's  translation: 


Victor  Hugo  137 

Dance,  little  girls, 

All  in  a  ring; 
To  see  you  so  pretty, 

The  forest  will  sing. 

Dance,  little  queens, 

All  in  a  ring; 
Lovers  to  lasses 

Sweet  kisses  will  bring. 

Dance,  little  madcaps, 

All  in  a  ring; 
The  crabbed  old  mistress 

Will  grumble  and  fling. 

Dance,  little  beauties, 

All  in  a  ring: 
The  birds  will  applaud  you 

With  clapping  of  wing. 

Dance,  little  fairies, 

All  in  a  ring; 
With  corn-flower  garlands 

And  fair  as  the  spring. 

Dance,  little  women, 

All  in  a  ring; 
Each  beau  to  his  lady 

Says  some  pretty  thing. 

But  all  things  have  an  end  here  below,  and  Hugo  was 
but  a  mortal  in  spite  of  his  fourscore  hale  and  hearty 
years.  His  health  was  spared  to  the  last.  In  May, 
1885,  after  one  of  his  field  excursions  he  seemed  ailing. 
Pneumonia  set  in,  and  nine  days  later,  May  22,  he  died. 
His  obsequies  were  notable.  The  nation  took  them  in 
charge.  Under  the  great  sweep  of  the  Arc  de  Triomphe, 
which  was  draped  in  black,  the  body  lay  in  state  at  the 


138  Ten  Frenchmen 

head  of  the  Champs  Elyse"es,  and  visible  from  the  heart  of 
Paris.  And  when  it  was  removed  it  was  only  to  be  borne 
down  the  wide  avenue,  over  the  Seine  to  its  resting-place 
in  the  church  of  the  Pantheon,  which  the  government  now 
set  apart  for  the  burial  of  the  illustrious  dead  of  the  land. 
Thousands  followed  behind  the  little  black  hearse — the 
hearse  of  the  poor  people,  which  Hugo  had  himself 
desired — and  tens  of  thousands  lined  the  way  to  witness 
perhaps  the  greatest  pageant  of  the  century. 

The  funeral  rites  of  Hugo  were  a  wonderful  tribute  to 
the  power  of  the  mind,  paid  by  a  people  who  have  ever 
shown  a  peculiar  admiration  for  military  power.  It  was 
an  homage  done  to  art,  to  literature,  to  the  intellect,  and 
in  doing  it  France  recognized  what  constitutes  her  true 
and  lasting  glory.  For  Hugo's  work  did  not  die  with 
him.  We  might  say  even  that  his  literary  activity  did 
not  cease.  In  spite  of  the  great  amount  of  publication 
in  prose  and  verse,  carried  on  with  slight  interruptions  for 
nearly  seventy  years,  his  productiveness  had  not  been 
exhausted.  From  the  material  which  his  executors  found 
in  his  papers,  half  a  dozen  more  collections  of  poetry 
have  been  made,  two  volumes  of  dramas,  and  as  many  of 
travel  and  narrative.  And  through  the  same  self-sacri- 
ficing filial  devotion  the  house  which  Hugo  occupied  in 
the  Place  des  Vosges  (old  Place  Royale)  from  1832  to  the 
Revolution  of  1848,  has  recently  been  set  apart  for  a 
museum  of  the  author  and  made  the  property  of  the 
nation. 


Victor  Hugo  139 


SELECTIONS   FROM    THE    WORKS    OF   VICTOR    HUGO 

Beginning    of   Monologue  from   Act   IV^    Scene   2,    of 
"Jfernani."      (Bohn  s  Translation^) 

[Don  Carlos  (the  future  Charles  V)  is  before  the  tomb  of 
Charlemagne  at  Aix-la-Chapelle,  and  is  considering  the  Holy 
Roman  Empire.] 

DON     CARLOS    (Alone) 

Forgive  me,  Charlemagne !  Oh,  this  lonely  vault 

Should  echo  only  unto  solemn  words ! 

Thou  must  be  angry  at  the  babble  vain 

Of  our  ambition  at  thy  monument. 

Here  Charlemagne  rests !     How  can  the  somber  tomb 

Without  a  rifting  spasm  hold  such  dust? 

And  art  thou  truly  here,  colossal  power, 

Creator  of  a  world?    And  canst  thou  now 

Crouch  down  from  all  thy  majesty  and  might? 

Ah,  'tis  a  spectacle  to  stir  the  soul, 

What  Europe  was  and  what  by  thee  'twas  made ! 

Mighty  construction  with  two  men  supreme, 

Elected  chiefs  to  whom  born  kings  submit. 

States,  duchies,  kingdoms,  marquisates,  and  fiefs, 

By  right  hereditary  most  are  ruled. 

But  nations  find  a  friend  sometimes  in  Pope 

Or  Cassar;  and  one  chance  another  chance 

Corrects;  thus  even  balance  is  maintained 

And  order  opens  out.     The  cloth-of-gold 

Electors,  and  the  scarlet  cardinals, 

The  double  sacred  senate,  unto  which 

Earth  bends,  are  but  paraded  outward  show. 

God's  fiat  rules  it  all.     One  day  He  wills 

A  thought,  a  want,  should  burst  upon  the  world, 

Then  grow  and  spread,  and  mix  with  everything, 

Possess  some  man,  win  hearts,  and  delve  a  groove; 

Though  kings  may  trample  on  it,  and  may  seek 

To  gag; — only  that  they  some  morn  may  see 


140  Ten  Frenchmen 

At  diet,  conclave,  this  the  scorned  idea, 

That  they  had  spurned,  all  suddenly  expand 

And  soar  above  their  heads,  bearing  the  globe 

In  hand,  or  on  the  brow  tiara.     Pope 

And  Emperor,  they  on  earth  are  all  in  all. 

A  mystery  supreme  dwells  in  them  both, 

And  Heaven's  might,  which  they  still  represent, 

Feasts  them  with  kings  and  nations,  holding  them 

Beneath  its  thunder-cloud  the  while  they  sit 

At  table  with  the  world  served  out  for  food. 

Alone  they  regulate  all  things  on  earth, 

Just  as  the  mower  manages  his  field. 

All  rule  and  power  are  theirs. 


From  "The  Djinns  "  ("The  Oriental  Poems") 

THE    DJINNS 

[The  genii  of  the  Arabs  approach,  pass,  and  depart.]    Trans- 
lated by  J.  L.  O'Sullivan. 

Town,  tower, 
Shore,  deep, 
Where  lower 
Cliffs  steep; 
Waves  gray, 
Where  play 
Winds  gay, 
All  sleep. 

Hark !  a  sound, 
Far  and  slight, 
Breathes  around 
On  the  night; 
High  and  higher, 
Nigh  and  nigher, 
Like  a  fire, 
Roaring  bright. 


Victor  Hugo  141 


Now  on  'tis  sweeping 
With  rattling  beat, 
Like  dwarf  imp  leaping 
In  gallop  fleet : 
He  flies,  he  prances, 
In  frolic  fancies, 
On  wave-crest  dances 
With  pattering  feet. 

Hark,  the  rising  swell, 
With  each  new  burst ! 
Like  the  tolling  bell 
Of  a  convent  curst; 
Like  the  billowy  roar 
On  a  storm-lashed  shore — 
Now  hushed,  but  once  more 
Maddening  to  its  worst. 

O  God !  the  deadly  sound 
Of  the  Djinns'  fearful  cry! 
Quick !  neath  the  spiral  round 
Of  the  deep  staircase  fly ! 
See,  see  our  lamplight  fade ! 
And  of  the  balustrade 
Mounts,  mounts  the  circling  shade 
Up  to  the  ceiling  high ! 

'Tis  the  Djinns'  wild  streaming  swarm 
Whistling  in  their  tempest  flight; 
Snap  the  tall  yews  'neath  the  storm, 
Like  a  pine  flame  crackling  bright. 
Swift  though  heavy,  lo !  their  crowd 
Through  the  heavens  rushing  loud 
Like  a  livid  thunder-cloud 
With  its  bolt  of  fiery  might  1 

They  have  passed ! — and  their  wild  legion 
Cease  to  thunder  at  my  door; 
Fleeting  through  night's  rayless  region, 
Hither  they  return  no  more. 


142  Ten  Frenchmen 

Clanking  chains  and  sounds  of  woe 
Fill  the  forests  as  they  go, 
And  the  tall  oaks  cower  low, 
Bent  their  flaming  light  before. 

On !  on !  the  storm  of  wings 

Bears  far  the  fiery  fear, 

Till  scarce  the  breeze  now  brings 

Dim  murmurings  to  the  ear; 

Like  locusts  humming  hail; 

Or  thrash  of  tiny  flail, 

Plied  by  the  fitful  gale 

On  some  old  roof-tree  sere. 

Fainter  now  are  borne 
Feeble  mutterings  still; 
As  when  Arab  horn 
Swells  its  magic  peal, 
Shoreward  o'er  the  deep 
Fairy  voices  sweep, 
And  the  infant's  sleep 
Golden  visions  fill. 

Each  deadly  Djinn, 
Dark  child  of  fright, 
Of  death  and  sin, 
Speeds  in  wild  flight 
Hark,  the  dull  moan, 
Like  the  deep  tone 
Of  Ocean's  groan 
Afar,  by  night ! 

More  and  more 
Fades  it  slow, 
As  on  shore 
Ripples  flow — 
As  the  plaint 
Far  and  faint 
Of  a  saint 
Murmured  low. 


Victor  Hugo  143 


Hark!  hist! 
Around, 
Hist! 

The  bounds 
Of  space 
All  trace 
Efface 
Of  sound. 


From  "  The  Shooting  Stars."      "Sotigs  of  the  Streets  and 
the  Woods" 

(Dean  Carrington's  translation.) 

Lovers  twain,  beneath  the  night, 
Dream,  a  young  and  happy  pair; 

Through  the  sky-space  infinite, 
Suns  are  seeded  everywhere, 

Athwart  th'  heav'n's  loud-sounding  dome, 
White  from  the  night's  extremest  way, 

Showers  of  sparkling  dawn-dust  roam, 
Stars  that  pass  and  fade  away. 

Heaps  of  falling  stars  are  shed 

Through  the  vast  dark  zenith  high; 

Kindled  ash,  which  censers  spread, 
Incense  of  infinity. 

And  beneath,  which  dews  bedew, 

Showing  pinks  and  violets  shy, 
Yellow  primrose,  pansy  blue, 

Lilies,  glory  of  July. 

By  the  cool  mist,  nearly  drowned, 

Lies  the  meadow  far  away, 
Girded  by  the  forest  round, 

Shivering,  so  that  one  would  say 


144  Ten  Frenchmen 

That  the  earth  'neath  veil  of  showers, 
Which  the  tear-wet  forest  sheds, 

Wide  its  apron,  decked  with  flowers, 
To  receive  the  stars  outspread. 


The  Wave  and  the  Shadow  ("Les  Miserables,"  Book  //, 
Chapter  8} 

[An  allegory  which  contains  the  thought  of  "Les  Miserables" 
— the  abandonment  of  the  criminal  by  society.] 

Man  overboard ! 

What  matters!  The  ship  does  not  stop.  The  wind  blows. 
That  somber  ship  has  a  route  it  must  pursue.  It  passes  on. 

The  man  disappears,  then  reappears ;  he  sinks  and  rises  again 
to  the  surface ;  he  calls ;  he  stretches  out  his  arms ;  he  is  not  heard ; 
the  ship,  trembling  under  the  hurricane,  is  wholly  taken  up  with 
its  own  handling;  the  sailors  and  passengers  no  longer  even  see 
the  man  who  has  sunk ;  his  wretched  head  is  but  a  speck  in  the 
enormous  mass  of  water. 

He  utters  despairing  cries  in  the  depths.  What  a  ghost  that 
fleeing  sail  is!  He  looks  at  it,  he  looks  at  it  madly.  It  goes 
away,  it  grows  dim,  it  grows  smaller.  A  moment  ago  he  was 
there,  with  the  crew;  he  was  coming  and  going  on  the  deck  with 
the  others;  he  was  enjoying  his  share  of  breath  and  sunshine;  he 
was  a  living  being.  Now,  what  indeed  has  happened?  He 
slipped,  he  fell,  it  is  over. 

He  is  in  the  monstrous  water.  Under  his  feet  there  is  nothing 
left  but  flight  and  crumbling.  The  billows,  rent  and  torn  by  the 
wind,  surround  him  hideously;  the  rollings  of  the  abyss  carry  him 
away;  all  the  tatters  of  the  waters  stir  about  his  head;  a  populace 
of  waves  spit  upon  him ;  murky  openings  half  devour  him ;  each 
time  that  he  sinks  down  he  catches  glimpses  of  precipices  full  of 
night;  fearful  unknown  vegetations  seize  him,  tie  his  feet,  pull 
him  to  themselves;  he  feels  he  is  becoming  abyss;  he  is  a  part 
of  the  foam;  the  waves  throw  him  to  one  another;  he  drinks 
bitterness;  the  cowardly  ocean  is  bent  on  drowning  him;  enormity 
sports  with  his  death  struggle.  All  that  water  seems  hate  itself. 


Victor  Hugo  145 

Nevertheless  he  fights  on. 

He  tries  to  defend  himself;  he  tries  to  keep  up;  he  makes  an 
effort;  he  swims.  He,  that  poor  force  at  once  exhausted,  he 
fights  against  the  inexhaustible. 

Where,  then,  is  the  ship?  Yonder.  Scarcely  visible  in  the 
pale  shades  of  the  horizon. 

The  blasts  blow!  all  the  particles  of  foam  overwhelm  him. 
He  lifts  his  eyes  and  sees  only  the  livid  clouds.  He  witnesses, 
dying,  the  sea's  vast  madness.  He  is  tortured  by  this  madness. 
He  hears  noises  foreign  to  man,  which  seem  to  come  from  beyond 
the  earth  and  from  some  frightful  alien  region. 

There  are  birds  in  the  clouds,  as  there  are  angels  above  the 
distress  of  humanity,  but  what  can  they  do  for  him?  They  fly, 
sing,  and  soar,  and  he — he  gives  the  death  rattle. 

He  feels  himself  entombed  at  the  same  time  by  these  two 
infinities,  ocean  and  sky;  one  is  a  grave,  the  other  is  a  shroud. 

Night  falls ;  he  has  been  swimming  for  hours ;  his  strength  has 
reached  its  limit;  that  ship,  that  distant  thing  where  men  were,  has 
died  away;  he  is  alone  in  the  formidable  twilight  gulf;  he  sinks; 
he  stiffens  to  resist;  he  twists  about;  he  feels  beneath  him  the 
waves,  monsters  of  the  invisible;  he  calls. 

All  men  are  gone.     Where  is  God? 

He  calls.     Help!  help!     He  keeps  on  calling. 

Nothing  on  the  horizon;  nothing  in  the  sky. 

He  implores  space,  the  wave,  the  sea  wrack,  the  reef;  they  are 
deaf.  He  begs  the  tempest;  the  imperturbable  tempest  obeys 
only  the  infinite. 

Around  him  are  shadow,  mist,  solitude,  the  stormy,  insensate 
tumult,  the  confused  curling  of  wild  waters.  In  him  are  horror 
and  fatigue.  Under  him,  falling.  No  supporting  crevice.  He 
thinks  of  the  darksome  adventures  of  the  corpse  in  the  limitless 
shade.  The  bottomless  cold  paralyzes  him.  His  hands  stiffen, 
shut,  seize  on  nothingness.  Winds,  clouds,  whirlwinds,  blasts, 
stars,  are  useless!  What  is  to  be  done?  The  despairing  man 
gives  up;  he  who  is  weary  concludes  to  die;  he  yields,  lets  himself 
go,  relaxes  his  grasp,  and  there  he  is  rolling  forever  in  the  mourn- 
ful depths  of  the  engulfing  chasm. 

Oh,  implacable  march  of  human  society !     Losses  of  men  and 


146  Ten  Frenchmen 

souls  on  your  way !  Ocean  into  which  falls  all  that  the  law  lets 
fall  1  Sinister  disappearance  of  help !  Oh,  moral  death  1 

The  sea  is  the  inexorable  social  night  into  which  the  penal 
system  casts  its  criminals.  The  sea  is  wretchedness  immense. 

The  soul  floating  in  this  gulf  may  become  a  corpse.  Who 
will  revive  it? 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

Translations  from  tJie  Poems  of  Victor  Hugo.    Henry  Carrington. 

Life  of  Victor  Hugo.     Frank  T.  Marzials. 

Articles  in  Harper's  Monthly,  Vol.  CII,  pp.  IOO  ff.,  and  444 
ff.;  Scribner's,  Vol.  XXI,  pp.  108  ff.;  The  Chautauquan,  Vol. 
XXV. 


HONORS   DE   BALZAC 


CHAPTER  VII 

BALZAC   AND    REALISM    IN    LITERATURE 

[HONOR£  DE  BALZAC,  born  at  Tours,  May  16,  1799;  educated  at 
Vendome  College,  in  Paris  schools,  and  at  the  Paris  Law 
School,  1807-1819;  life  of  writing  and  reading  at  Paris,  1819- 
1820;  at  home  at  Villeparisis,  1821-1824;  publisher  at  Paris, 
1824-1825;  printer,  1826-1828;  novelist,  1829-1848;  died  at 
Paris,  August  18,  1850.  Leading  novels:  "Louis  Lambert," 
1832;  "Eugenie  Grandet,"  1833;  "Pere  Goriot,"  1834; 
"Seraphita,"  1835;  "The  Lily  in  the  Valley,"  1835;  "Cesar 
Birotteau,"  1837;  "Ursule  Mirouet,"  1841;  "Cousin  Pons," 
1847.] 

French  realism  in  the  literature  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury differs  from  English  realism  in  at  least  one  essential 
particular,  the  amount  of  moral  fiber  in  its  heroes  and 
heroines.  While  the  realistic  writers  of  both  nations 
agree  in  presenting  life  such  as  they  see  it  around  them, 
with  its  trials  and  changes,  the  English  author  balances 
the  evil  of  that  life  with  the  good.  The  French  author, 
as  a  rule,  does  not.  The  reason  for  this  striking  diver- 
gence is  not  far  to  seek.  The  English  novelists  were  not 
guided  by  a  preconceived  theory.  The  French  were.  As 
the  French  are  at  bottom  a  logical  people,  and  demand 
conclusions  which  proceed  strictly  from  accepted  prem- 
ises, so  in  their  literature  they  wish  consistency  in  argu- 
ment. Now,  the  argument  of  realism  is  fidelity  to  facts, 
facts  separated  from  everything  which  is  imaginative  or 
immaterial,  absolute,  scientific  facts.  French  realism 

H7 


148  Ten  Frenchmen 

added  to  this  postulate  the  further  one  of  man  considered 
as  an  animate  being. 

France  had  received  from  England,  from  Locke,  the 
doctrine  of  knowledge  derived  through  the  senses.  The 
disciples  of  this  philosophical  school,  carried  away  by  their 
logical  temperament,  pushed  this  doctrine  to  an  extreme, 
and  claimed  that  man  has  no  other  sources  of  knowledge 
than  through  his  body.  The  influence  of  the  great  teach- 
ers of  medicine,  who  in  France  began  to  reorganize  the 
study  of  that  profession  towards  the  last  years  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  tended  in  the  same  direction.  So 
much  so,  indeed,  that  under  this  combined  pressure  from 
philosophy  and  physiology  few  -Frenchmen  of  the  first  half 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  save  the  most  devout,  seem  to 
have  looked  on  man  as  anything  but  an  animal.  If  he 
receives  all  his  knowledge  through  his  physical  being  as 
the  dog  or  the  horse  does,  he  differs  from  the  dog  and 
horse  only  in  degree.  When  the  sources  of  his  knowl- 
edge cease,  when  the  body  dies,  the  man  is  dead.  He 
has  no  mind  apart  from  his  body,  no  soul. 

Apply  this  creed  to  literature  and  see  the  result. 
Realism  is  observation  of  the  facts  of  life.  Philosophy 
and  science  both  limit  the  observation  of  man  to  the  facts 
of  his  material  existence.  They  do  not  show  that  he  has 
any  other  existence.  Consequently  a  study  of  man,  i-f 
pursued  in  a  scientific  way,  as  realism  claims  it  should  be, 
resolves  itself  into  the  study  of  an  animal,  of  its  needs  and 
its  appetites.  The  animal  wants  something  and  seeks  it. 
So  does  man.  Neither  is  endowed  with  the  capacity  to 
resist  its  desires,  so  far  as  science  shows.  Man  is  higher 
than  the  brute  in  the  order  of  creation.  He  has  more 
brains.  He  is  actuated  by  other  instincts  than  hunger 


Balzac  and  Realism  in  Literature         149 

and  thirst.  His  faculties  admit  of  ambition,  avarice.  He 
loves  power,  luxury.  As  the  senses  furnish  no  valid  rea- 
sons why  he  should  not  get  what  he  wants,  he  strives  to 
get  it  by  all  the  means  he  possesses,  by  violence,  deceit, 
labor. 

This  is  the  principle  of  French  realism.  In  contrast 
to  the  English  practice  of  assuming  that  man  has  both  a 
spiritual  and  a  physical  nature,  and  that  the  two  often 
clash,  the  French  theory  is  more  simple.  It  does  away 
with  the  inner  struggle  of  the  individual,  and  considers  only 
the  struggles  between  individuals,  where  the  strong  or  the 
crafty  destroy  the  weak  or  the  simple.  In  other  words, 
French  realism  ignores  the  question  of  the  individual 
conscience.  It  deliberately  confines  itself  to  the  descrip- 
tion of  that  part  of  humanity  which  is  not  disturbed  by 
ethical  considerations. 

Connected  with  this  principle  of  French  realism  is 
another,  subordinate  to  it,  but  still  important  in  compari- 
son with  its  relative  across  the  Channel.  The  French 
Revolution,  as  we  have  seen,  made  for  the  widening  of 
those  who  are  socially  capable,  for  democracy.  Chateau- 
briand, Madame  de  Stael,  both  romanticists,  remained 
aristocrats  in  their  writings.  Hugo  began  as  such,  but 
was  soon  carried  towards  democracy  by  his  surroundings 
and  sympathies.  Yet  he  still  believed  in  man's  moral 
nature.  The  remaining  romanticists  either  remained 
aristocratic  or  mingled  aristocracy  with  democracy,  as 
Alfred  de  Vigny  in  poetry,  Alexandre  Dumas  and  George 
Sand  in  romance.  But  the  true  realist  could  not  be  an 
aristocrat.  Political  power  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of 
the  Third  Estate,  and  the  realist  must  recognize  that  fact. 
The  aristocracy  was  dying,  was  losing  property  and  social 


150  Ten  Frenchmen 

position  to  the  successful  plebeian,  the  bourgeois  banker, 
merchant,  manufacturer.  The  new-school  novelists  must 
tell  of  the  rise  of  the  poor  boy,  with  passions  or  ambitions 
to  gratify,  through  the  social  strata,  across  the  ruins  of 
the  upper  layers,  to  prominence  or  indulgence.  And  they 
had  before  them  a  model,  the  embodiment  of  democracy 
and  materialism,  Napoleon,  who  without  apparent  regard 
for  morals,  individual  or  social,  went  straight  about  his 
work  of  leveling  mankind  to  one  huge  democracy  under 
him.  He  was  the  idol  of  the  first  realistic  novelist, 
Stendhal,  who  exalts  him  in  "Red  and  Black"  and  "The 
Chartreuse  of  Parma."  His  success  was  also  ever  pres- 
ent before  the  eyes  of  the  greater  realistic  author,  who 
began  his  genuine  career  at  the  flood-tide  of  the  Napole- 
onic legend,  Honore  de  Balzac. 

Balzac  was  born  at  Tours  in  1/99,  on  the  calendar  day 
of  St.  Honorius,  from  whom  he  took  his  name,  as  was  the 
custom.  His  family  was  well  to  do,  and  had  not  suffered 
by  the  Revolution.  The  first  four  years  of  his  life  he 
passed  with  a  peasant  nurse  in  the  country,  also  custom- 
ary with  French  children  of  respectable  parentage.  At 
the  age  of  eight  he  was  sent  to  the  college  at  Vendome, 
where  he  spent  six  years  without  vacation  or  holiday. 
Our  first  glimpse  at  his  character  is  obtained  here,  from 
the  school  register:  "Honore  Balzac,  aged  eight  years 
and  one  month.  Has  had  the  smallpox  and  is  without 
infirmity.  Temperament  sanguine;  easily  excited;  sub- 
ject to  feverish  attacks."  The  confinement  of  this  exist- 
ence for  a  child  who  had  passed  nearly  all  his  hours  out 
of  doors  seemed  at  last  to  benumb  his  faculties,  and  he 
was  sent  home  to  recruit.  So  he  hated  these  years,  as 
many  of  his  countrymen  do  the  years  of  their  prison-like 


Balzac  and  Realism  in  Literature         151 

education,  and  in  his  novel  of  "Louis  Lambert"  has  left 
us  the  legacy  of  his  abhorrence.  In  1814  his  family 
moved  to  Paris,  and  Honore  continued  his  study  in  the 
schools  of  the  capital.  He  then  entered  the  Law  School, 
and  also  got  practical  legal  experience  in  the  offices  of 
friends  of  his  family.  From  these  first  years  at  Paris  he 
gained  his  personal  knowledge  of  Napoleon,  whom  he  had 
seen,  and  his  familiarity  with  legal  terms,  both  of  which 
were  to  enter  widely  into  the  composition  of  his  future 
works. 

By  1819  the  Balzac  family  had  retired  to  the  country, 
and  Honore,  refusing  to  practice  law,  had  wrung  from 
his  father  a  reluctant  consent  to  give  himself  up  to  liter- 
ary pursuits.  He  established  himself  in  a  garret  near  one 
of  the  libraries  of  Paris,  and  read,  wrote,  and  observed 
the  life  and  occupations  of  the  town.  But  he  strangely 
misjudged  his  own  talent.  Filled  with  a  desire  for  liter- 
ary fame  at  all  hazards,  he  took  the  shortest  road  to 
that  goal  in  France.  He  chose  a  tragedy,  and  a  trag- 
edy on  Cromwell.  He  composed  the  tragedy,  read 
it  to  his  family,  and  submitted  it  to  friends.  It  was 
wretched,  and  resulted  in  his  recall  to  the  family  home. 
There,  although  subject  to  many  interruptions,  he  began 
to  work  on  fiction.  In  1822  he  published  five  romances 
of  four  volumes  each.  In  1823,  1824,  and  1825  he  added 
three  more  to  the  number,  all  under  pseudonyms,  mainly 
that  of  Horace  de  Saint-Aubin.  But  these  stories  were 
always  refused  a  place  in  his  complete  works  by  him. 
They  are  novels  in  the  extravagant  taste  of  the  time,  and 
are  now  of  interest  only  because  Balzac  wrote  them. 

In  1823  he  wished  to  take  up  his  residence  in  Paris 
again.  Unfortunately  his  career  had  not  yet  justified  any 


152  Ten  Frenchmen 

further  liberality  on  the  part  of  his  parents,  and  he  was 
forced  to  rely  on  himself.  Acting  on  the  advice  of  a 
business  acquaintance  who  lent  him  the  money  for  the 
enterprise,  he  turned  publisher,  and  got  out  the  complete 
works  of  Moliere  and  La  Fontaine  in  one  volume  each, 
the  first  attempt,  it  is  said,  to  make  compact  editions  of 
the  French  classics.  But  nobody  bought  them,  and 
Balzac  was  left  in  debt.  Here  begins  the  struggle  against 
financial  burdens  with  which  he  consumed  his  vitality. 
From  publishing  he  went  to  printing,  in  a  vain  hope  to 
retrieve  his  fortunes,  using  for  his  purpose  the  patrimony 
his  family  advanced  to  him,  and  when  printing  proved 
unsuccessful,  he  bought  a  type-foundry,  a  good  specula- 
tion had  he  possessed  sufficient  capital.  Indeed,  it  may 
be  said  of  Balzac's  financial  schemes  in  general,  that  they 
were  good  ones;  but  he  did  not  have  the  money  to  push 
them.  And  the  close  of  the  year  1828  saw  him  out  of 
them  all,  but  deep  in  pecuniary  obligations.  He  owed, 
he  says,  about  twenty- four  thousand  dollars. 

His  failures  in  business  restored  him  to  literature.  In 
1827  he  had  begun  the  first  novel  he  was  to  acknowledge 
later,  a  story  of  the  Vendean  war — anticipating  Hugo's 
"Ninety-Three" — which  he  named  "Les  Chouans."  It 
was  published  in  1829  under  his  own  name,  and  as  the 
book  has  merit,  and  the  fashion  of  the  day  favored  histori- 
cal romances  in  the  manner  of  Walter  Scott,  whom  Balzac 
here  takes  for  a  model,  it  brought  reputation  to  its  author, 
and  encouraged  further  literary  undertakings.  Of  these 
there  was  no  end.  Balzac's  memory  was  unusual.  His 
reading  had  been  enormous,  his  observation  long  contin- 
ued, his  experience  varied,  and  he  had  the  habit  of  supple- 
menting his  after  impressions  by  a  kind  of  scrap-book  he 


Balzac  and  Realism  in  Literature         1 53 

carried  on  his  person.  Our  guide  to  his  career  in  these 
first  thirty  years  of  his  existence  is  his  devoted  sister, 
Madame  de  Surville.  Speaking  of  his  method  of  accu- 
mulation she  says:  "Wherever  he  went  he  studied  what 
he  saw — towns,  villages,  country  places,  and  their  inhabi- 
tants ;  collecting  words  or  speeches  which  revealed  a  char- 
acter or  painted  a  situation.  He  called,  rather  slightingly, 
the  scrap-book  in  which  he  kept  these  notes  of  what  he 
saw  and  heard,  his  'meat-safe.'  ' 

Out  of  this  faculty  of  observation  of  places  and  men 
grew  many  of  his  stories  and  novels.  "Les  Chouans" 
itself  had  been  suggested  by  a  visit  to  friends  who  lived  in 
Brittany,  and  it  contains  descriptions  of  Breton  scenery. 
So  his  early  years  had  given  him  surroundings  and  events. 
Tours  is  celebrated  ("The  Curate  of  Tours"),  the  fertile 
valleys  which  lie  near  it  ("The  Lily  in  the  Valley"),  the 
residences  of  acquaintances  as  he  visits  them  from  time  to 
time,  towns  he  stays  in,  as  Saumur  ("Eugenie  Grandet") 
or  Angouleme  ("Lost  Illusions").  During  his  early  soli- 
tary life  in  Paris  he  himself  tells  how  he  made  a  point  of 
using  even  his  exercise  to  gather  material  for  fiction.  He 
noticed  people,  their  dress,  their  manners,  drew  near  to 
listen  to  their  conversation,  and  tried  by  it  to  enter  into 
their  beings  and  lead  their  lives.  His  imagination  was  so 
powerful  he  actually  succeeded  in  this  last  instance.  He 
claims  he  could  feel  the  clothes  of  others  upon  himself, 
could  share  their  angers  and  pleasures.  He  found  in  this 
kind  of  metamorphosis  a  relaxation  from  the  fatigue  of 
toil.  And  this  trait  grew  on  him  with  years.  His  sister 
shows  how  he  considered  the  characters  of  his  work  as 
living  beings,  how  interested  he  was  in  their  plans  and 
fortunes.  Such  a  power  explains  the  attraction  which  his 


154  Ten  Frenchmen 

writings  exert.  He  lived  out  his  people.  He  thus  makes 
them  vivid  for  us.  They  are  real  flesh  and  blood,  because 
for  the  time  being  they  were  a  part  of  humanity. 

Endowed  with  this  gift,  Balzac  could  not  satisfy  him- 
self with  the  rather  distant  domain  of  historical  fiction. 
With  a  few  slight' exceptions  "Les  Chouans"  remains  his 
only  incursion  into  that  field.  He  was  full  of  the  world 
around  him.  He  had  shared  the  passions,  good  and  bad, 
of  his  contemporaries.  His  observations  of  things  and 
manners,  attributes  of  these  contemporaries  and  their 
environment,  had  led  him  along  the  way  of  actuality.  It 
is  said  that  Stendhal,  intent  on  his  sketches  of  Parisian 
society,  influenced  Balzac  to  follow  his  example.  This  is 
possible.  But  it  is  not  necessary  to  explain  his  course. 
His  genius  was  realistic.  His  material  was  objective. 
His  own  life  even  was  a  matter  of  analysis  to  himself.  His 
imagination  consisted  mainly  in  his  transformation  of  him- 
self into  others,  whose  profession  or  trade  he  studied  and 
embraced  for  the  moment.  And  then  at  bottom  he  was 
unemotional;  or  if  not  unemotional,  he  was  surely  unsym- 
pathetic. The  prizes  of  this  world  are  for  the  strong,  he 
argued.  You  cannot  spare  the  weak  without  falsifying  the 
reality  of  life.  So  his  sister  says  that  when  she  interceded 
with  him  in  behalf  of  some  unfortunate  of  his  unfinished  ro- 
mances, he  would  answer:  "Don't  bewilder  me  with  your 
sensibilities;  truth  before  everything.  Those  persons  are 
feeble,  incapable;  what  happens  to  them  must  happen;  so 
much  the  worse  for  them."  Napoleon,  the  great  realist, 
could  hardly  have  spoken  otherwise  of  the  victims  of  his 
ambition. 

"Les  Chouans,"  therefore,  was  not  repeated.  The 
year  1830  saw  a  large  number  of  sketches  and  short 


Balzac  and  Realism  in  Literature         155 

stories  from  his  pen,  some  fanciful,  some  historical,  some 
drawn  from  life.  Emile  de  Girardin,  the  great  journalist 
of  his  time,  opened  to  him  the  columns  of  his  newspaper, 
La  Mode,  and  also  the  doors  of  Madame  Sophie  Gay's 
salon,  Madame  Girardin's  mother.  There  Balzac  could 
meet  the  best  minds  of  the  nation.  Hugo,  Lamartine, 
artists,  musicians,  or  politicians  like  Thiers.  He  also 
aided  Girardin  in  founding  a  new  weekly,  devoted  to  litera- 
ture and  art.  In  1831  he  left  his  ugly  quarters  for  an 
apartment  which  he  was  to  occupy  for  seven  years,  and 
which  he  fitted  up  with  considerable  taste,  though  denying 
himself  at  the  same  time  many  of  the  necessaries  of  life. 
It  is  in  this  new  house  that  he  wrote  the  works  which 
brought  him  fame,  and  where  he  conceived  the  plan  of 
what  he  was  pleased  to  call — surely  in  imitation  of  Dante 
— "The  Human  Comedy."  And  yet  it  was  the  spur  of 
debt  which  goaded  him  on. 

His  method  of  work,  of  actual  labor  in  writing  out  his 
stories,  has  been  told  so  often  that  it  has  become  legend- 
ary. Having  prepared  himself  with  subject,  plan,  and 
material,  he  would  isolate  himself  from  the  world  during 
the  process  of  composition.  One  of  his  publishers  tells 
us  that  he  would  retire  at  eight  in  the  evening,  rise  by 
two  in  the  night,  and  write  as  fast  as  he  could  carry  his 
quill — it  was  before  the  time  of  steel  pens — until  six.  A 
long  bath  at  six,  coffee  at  eight,  when  the  publisher 
would  call  with  proofs  and  to  get  copy,  and  writing  again 
from  nine  to  noon,  lunch  and  writing  again  from  one  to 
six.  Dinner  followed,  and  at  seven  the  publisher  would 
call  again,  and  occasionally  Balzac's  intimates.  He  him- 
self gives  a  picture  of  his  own  manner  of  work  to  his 
sister,  in  the  year  1833.  It  is  practically  the  existence 


156  Ten  Frenchmen 

sketched  by  his  publisher,  though  the  details  are  some- 
what different:  "I  have  begun  hard  work  again.  I  go  to 
bed  at  six  with  my  dinner  in  my  mouth.  The  animal 
digests,  and  sleeps  till  midnight.  Then  Auguste  makes 
me  a  cup  of  coffee,  on  which  the  mind  works  without  a 
break  till  noon.  I  rush  to  the  printing-office  to  take  my 
copy  and  get  my  proofs,  in  order  to  give  the  animal  exer- 
cise, who  dreams  as  he  goes.  One  puts  a  good  deal  of 
black  on  white,  little  sister,  in  twelve  hours;  and  after  a 
month  of  this  existence  there's  not  a  little  work  done. 
Poor  pen!  it  must  be  made  of  diamond  not  to  be  worn 
out  by  so  much  toil.  To  increase  its  master's  reputa- 
tion ....  to  enable  him  to  pay  his  debts  to  all,  and 
then  to  give  him,  some  day,  rest  upon  the  mountain — that 
is  its  task." 

Before  this  account,  he  had  told  his  mother,  in  1832, 
of  his  experience  in  writing  "Louis  Lambert":  "I  was 
worn  out  with  the  labor  which  'Louis  Lambert'  caused 
me;  I  had  sat  up  many  nights  and  drank  so  much  coffee 
that  I  suffered  stomach  pains  which  amounted  to  cramps. 
'Louis  Lambert'  is,  perhaps,  a  masterpiece,  but  it  has 
cost  me  dearly — six  weeks  of  unremitting  toil  at  Sache 
and  ten  days  at  Angouleme."  In  other  words,  when  at 
work  he  would  pass  from  six  to  eight  weeks  away  from 
every  one  but  his  publisher,  turning  night  into  day  by  the 
free  use  of  coffee.  His  actual  time  at  his  desk  was  twelve 
hours  daily. 

This  unusual  existence  has  become  attached  to  the 
name  of  Balzac  and  stamped  itself  on  his  history.  Yet 
it  did  not  fill  up  all  his  life,  nor  possibly  the  greater  part 
of  it.  For  when  once  released  from  his  self-imposed 
prison,  he  was  off,  visiting  friends  and  places,  observing 


Balzac  and  Realism  in  Literature         1 57 

men  and  landscapes,  speculating  on  financial  schemes,  and 
planning  more  books,  the  meanwhile  writing  letters,  many 
and  long,  to  correspondents  of  all  kinds.  During  these 
intermissions  he  attempted  other  vocations.  Once  he 
thought  of  turning  politician,  and  actually  stood  for  two 
constituencies  in  1831,  one  in  1832,  and  again  in  1834. 
But  the  party  he  belonged  to  was  the  Legitimist,  the 
Bourbon  party,  and  the  larger  number  of  its  members 
protested  against  the  July  Monarchy  by  refusing  to  vote 
under  it.  Consequently  Balzac  had  little  support  at  the 
polls.  His  political  program  did  not  stop  with  affirming 
the  excellence  of  a  limited  constitutional  government,  with 
the  larger  part  of  its  legislative  power  lodged  in  an  upper 
house  of  peers,  who  represented  landed  property.  He 
had  views  of  his  own  regarding  the  liberty  of  the  press, 
and  advocated  the  remission  of  taxation  on  newspapers, 
so  that  many  should  be  printed  and  the  one-cent  sheet 
might  be  possible.  He  also  wished  France  to  prepare  for 
foreign  wars  by  a  general  conscription  of  the  whole  nation 
after  the  model  of  Prussia.  This  was  in  1831. 

And  then  Balzac  had  desires  to  shine  socially.  His 
writings  had  brought  him  many  admirers  among  women, 
who  sent  him  letters  eulogistic  of  his  work  —  as 
was  the  case  of  Madame  Hanska,  whom  he  afterwards 
married — and  who  opened  to  him  the  doors  of  their 
houses.  In  this  way  he  became  acquainted  with  some  of 
the  leaders  of  fashion,  and  drew  on  his  experience  at  their 
receptions  for  his  episodes  of  high  life.  The  remarkable 
thing  of  it  all  is,  that  in  spite  of  these  opportunities,  and 
notwithstanding  that  both  here  and  in  literary  and  family 
circles  he  constantly  met  women  of  the  greatest  refine- 
ment, he  seems  to  have  never  known  what  a  lady  was, 


158  Ten  Frenchmen 

and  his  portraits  of  what  he  considered  grandes  dames  are 
simply  absurd — witness  Madame  de  Beause"ant  and  the 
Duchesse  de  Langeais  in  "Pere  Goriot."  One  would 
say  their  originals  were  bold,  vulgar  upstarts  who  had 
derived  their  ideas  of  breeding  from  the  haughty  heroines 
of  flashy  romances.  In  this  respect  his  observation  cer- 
tainly failed  him,  perhaps  the  only  respect.  But  this 
particular  failure  spoils  many  of  the  pages  in  which  he 
evidently  took  unusual  delight.  The  reflex  influence  on 
his  private  life  is  seen  in  the  extravagance  he  indulged  in, 
for  a  short  period  only,  it  is  true,  of  a  carriage  and  groom, 
with  which  ornaments  he  appeared  in  the  favorite  streets 
and  parks  of  the  French  capital. 

But  politics  and  society  occupied  an  extremely  small 
fraction  of  Balzac's  life.  Nor  does  he  seem  to  have 
fostered  love  affairs  either.  His  mind  was  intent  on 
books,  always  books.  He  carried  the  plots  of  several  in 
his  head  at  once.  Two  or  three  would  actually  be  on  the 
stocks  at  the  same  time.  Quite  likely  he  found  mental 
relief  in  changing  from  one  to  the  other  and  back  again, 
just  as  he  found  recreation  in  embodying  himself  now  in 
this  now  in  that  character.  To  one  of  his  correspond- 
ents, Madame  Carraud,  he  thus  describes  the  state  of  his 
brain,  in  1833:  "I  assure  you  I  live  in  an  atmosphere  of 
thoughts,  ideas,  plans,  labors,  conceptions;  which  cross 
one  another,  boil,  crackle  in  my  head  enough  to  drive  me 
crazy.  But  nothing  makes  me  thin.  I  am  the  truest 
portrait  of  a  monk  ever  seen  since  the  first  hour  of 
monasteries." 

Yet  with  all  this  material  on  hand,  and  in  process  of 
casting,  he  was  not  careless  in  his  use  of  it.  Indeed, 
Balzac  was  the  terror  of  type-setters.  It  was  his  custom 


Balzac  and  Realism  in  Literature         159 

to  send  to  the  printer  an  outline  of  his  stories  merely, 
which  was  set  up  and  returned  to  him  in  separate  columns 
on  large  sheets  of  paper.  This  sketch  he  would  elabo- 
rate, correcting,  adding,  and  with  the  return  of  this  copy 
the  next  day  would  continue  to  change  and  amplify. 
Sometimes  as  many  as  eleven  or  twelve  proofs  would 
thus  pass  before  his  eyes.  He  was  rarely  satisfied  even 
then,  for  though  he  possessed  little  artistic  ability,  he  was 
always  seeking  to  improve  his  style.  The  cost  of  so  many 
alterations  was,  of  course,  enormous.  The  printers  gener- 
ally refused  to  pay  for  them,  and  he  was  forced  to  bear 
the  burden.  In  one  letter  he  speaks  of  a  new  publisher 
having  paid  for  four  thousand  francs  of  proof  corrections 
in  order  to  relieve  him.  So  we  may  not  wonder  that  he 
had  difficulties  with  the  publication  of  his  books,  or  that 
he  antagonized  many  with  whom  he  had  business  relations. 
He  also  had  causes  for  disagreement  with  the  journalists, 
not  always  of  his  own  making,  and  after  a  lawsuit,  in 
1835-1836,  with  Buloz,  the  editor  of  the  Revue  de  Paris, 
as  well  as  the  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes,  he  found  the  col- 
umns of  the  press  practically  closed  to  him.  So  he  seemed 
to  wish  an  organ  of  his  own.  In  1836  he  started  the 
semi-weekly  Chronique  de  Paris,  which  lasted  less  than  a 
year.  In  1840  he  tried  the  monthly  Revue  Parisienne, 
which  died  with  the  third  issue. 

The  years  between  1832  and  1836,  to  which  period  these 
comments  belong,  established  Balzac's  fame  on  a  lasting 
foundation.  His  manner  of  work,  his  working  costume 
of  a  white  cashmere  dressing-gown,  made  like  a  monk's 
habit,  and  fastened  with  a  cord  around  the  waist,  his 
frugal  life  of  abstinence,  all  contributed  to  invest  his  per- 
son with  interest.  And  his  novels  confirmed  these  exter- 


160  Ten  Frenchmen 

nal  signs  of  genius.  In  1832,  together  with  many  short 
stories,  "The  Curate  of  Tours"  and  "Louis  Lambert" 
saw  the  light;  in  1833  "The  Country  Doctor"  and 
"Eugenie  Grandet";  in  1834-1835  "  Se"raphita, "  "La 
Recherche  de  1'Absolu,"  and  "Pere  Goriot";  in  1835- 
1836  "The  Lily  in  the  Valley."  Nor  were  the  following 
years  less  productive.  In  1838  he  left  Paris  for  the 
suburb  of  Ville-d'Avray,  where  he  bought  land  on  a  hill- 
side, and  built  some  buildings,  to  which  he  gave  the  name 
of  Les  Jardies.  He  had  long  desired  a  country  place. 
Here  he  remained  four  years,  then  returned  to  Paris, 
where  he  finally  (in  1846)  bought  a  house  of  his  own,  the 
Beaujon  Hotel  in  Rue  Balzac  (former  Rue  Fortunee), 
which  he  filled  with  many  curiosities  and  bric-a-brac.  To 
the  first  six  years  belong  the  voluminous  "Lost  Illusions," 
"Cesar  Birotteau"  (1837),  "Beatrix"  (1839),  "Ursule 
Mirouet"  (1841),  and  "Albert  Savarus"  (1842). 

The  year  1843  marks  an  epoch  in  Balzac's  life. 
Among  the  women  whose  attention  had  been  aroused  by 
Balzac's  first  successes  was,  as  we  have  noticed,  Madame 
Hanska,  a  Pole.  The  correspondence  she  carried  on  with 
the  novelist  led  to  various  interviews,  as  she  visited  France 
or  the  neighboring  lands.  In  1843  ner  husband,  who  was 
many  years  her  senior,  died,  and  that  summer  Balzac 
visited  her  at  her  home.  The  affection  which  had  been 
steadily  increasing  in  his  heart  was  now  aroused  to  a 
passion.  Unfortunately  it  was  not  to  be  soon  satisfied. 
Duties  toward  her  daughter,  a  minor,  unusual  state  regu- 
lations regarding  property  in  Russia,  and  differences  of 
religion  delayed  the  projected  marriage.  In  1846  they 
became  formally  engaged.  In  October,  1848,  Balzac 
went  to  Poland  to  stay  until  he  should  return  with  his 


Balzac  and  Realism  in  Literature         161 

bride.  One  circumstance  after  another  delayed  the  wed- 
ding. Finally,  on  March  14,  1850,  it  took  place.  In 
April  the  bridal  trip  to  Paris  was  begun,  and  May  found 
the  husband  and  wife  installed  in  the  Beaujon  house. 

But  all  these  delays  had  left  their  impress  on  Balzac. 
The  consequences  of  his  unnatural  mode  of  life,  excessive 
hours,  lack  of  sleep,  and  overstimulation  were  already 
noticeable  by  1842.  A  letter  to  his  mother,  in  April  of 
that  year,  reveals  discouragement,  and  speaks  of  his  pro- 
ductiveness as  diminishing.  By  1844  the  breakdown  had 
become  serious.  He  writes  of  fever  and  internal  pains. 
Mental  distress  augmented  his  physical  discomfort.  The 
postponement  of  his  union  with  Madame  Hanska  weighed 
upon  him.  The  uncertainty  attending  the  outcome  of  his 
courtship — an  accepted  lover  and  yet  separated  from  his 
love,  his  "star"  as  he  delighted  to  call  her — distracted 
his  mind.  His  work  became  more  and  more  halting,  the 
times  of  inspiration  less  frequent.  Still  with  all  these  ills, 
physical  and  mental,  when  he  did  work  his  talent  showed 
no  signs  of  diminution.  "Modeste  Mignon"  belongs  to 
1844,  "The  Peasants"  to  1844-1845,  "Cousin  Pons" 
and  "Cousine  Bette"  to  1846-1847.  His  art  gallery  of 
the  Beaujon  house  did  service  in  "Cousin  Pons."  But 
with  his  journey  to  Russia,  in  1848,  disease  finally  con- 
quered. The  climate  aggravated  his  maladies,  and  when 
he  returned  to  France,  in  May,  1850,  it  was  only  to  die. 
Standing  on  the  threshold  of  happiness,  holding  what  he 
had  so  long  desired,  a  woman's  love,  freed  from  his  life 
incubus  of  debt,  his  frame  was  too  weak  to  sustain  any 
longer  the  soul  which  had  overwrought  it.  On  August 
1 8,  1850,  he  passed  away. 

The   extent  of    Balzac's    work    renders    any   detailed 


1 62  Ten  Frenchmen 

analysis  of  it  quite  impossible.  He  had  begun  his  career 
under  Walter  Scott's  influence,  and  expected  to  write 
historical  novels  like  him.  But  his  own  experience  and 
the  atmosphere  in  which  he  lived  were  both  opposed  to 
this  idea,  and  after  "Les  Chouans"  and  several  shorter 
sketches  of  an  historical  nature  he  settl  d  down  to  put  into 
fiction  what  he  himself  had  seen  or  fancied.  As  early  as 
1830  he  had  recognized  this  bent  of  his  genius,  and 
affirmed  that  he  was  painting  a  picture  of  men  and  man- 
ners in  the  first  part  of  the  nineteenth  century.  In  a  letter 
to  Madame  Hanska,  written  in  January,  1833,  he  states 
that  he  has  "undertaken,  rashly  doubtless,  to  represent  all 
literature  in  the  whole  of  his  work,"  and  that  "wishing  t 
build  a  monument  durable  more  for  its  size  and  accumula- 
tion of  material  than  because  of  the  beauty  of  its  struc- 
ture," he  is  "obliged  to  attempt  every  kind  of  subject  so 
as  not  to  be  accused  of  lack  of  power. ' '  He  had  long  been 
seeking  for  a  general  classification  for  this  material.  He 
had  tried  "Philosophical  Romances  and  Stories"  for  some, 
"Scenes  of  Private  Life,"  "Scenes  of  Provincial  Life" 
for  others;  he  had  settled  on  a  more  comprehensive  title  for 
the  latter  varieties  in  1834,  with  "Studies  of  Manners  in 
the  Nineteenth  Century,"  and  had  changed  the  heading  of 
the  former  to  "Philosophical  Studies"  in  1835.  Later 
he  conceived  the  idea  of  grouping  all  his  work  of  what- 
ever nature  under  the  name  of  "The  Human  Comedy," 
with  the  subdivisions  of  "Scenes  of  Private  Life,"  "Pro- 
vincial Life,"  "Parisian  Life,"  "Military  Life,"  "Politi- 
cal Life,"  "Country  Life,"  "Philosophical  Studies,"  and 
"Analytical  Studies."  And  these  titles  appear  in  his 
final  edition,  begun  in  1842. 

This  edition  has  a   preface    which  contains  Balzac's 


Balzac  and  Realism  in  Literature         163 

literary  theories,  and  a  defense  against  his  critics  as  well. 
In  it  he  says  that  the  underlying  idea  of  his  work  was 
based  on  a  comparison  between  man  and  animals.  As  the 
zoologists  had  claimed  that  all  animals  came  originally 
from  one  form,  which  had  developed  differently  in  differ- 
ent environments,  and  produced  at  last  different  species, 
so  man  is  one  in  his  origin,  and  differs  from  his  fellow-man 
merely  because  of  his  environment.  Buff  on,  the  great 
naturalist  of  the  eighteenth  century,  had  written  the 
chronicles  of  the  animal  kingdom.  Balzac  would  now 
record  the  annals  of  humanity  existing  in  organized  soci- 
ety. Before  1842,  in  a  preface  to  "Lost  Illusions," 
printed  in  1837,  we  can  see  the  embryo  of  this  idea: 
"When  a  writer  has  undertaken  a  complete  description  of 
society,  seen  under  all  its  forms,  noted  in  all  its  phases, 
starting  from  the  principle  that  the  social  state  so  fits  men 
to  its  needs  and  transforms  them  so  thoroughly  that  no- 
where are  men  like  one  another,  and  that  it  has  created  as 
many  species  as  it  has  professions;  that  social  humanity,  in 
short,  presents  as  many  varieties  as  zoology  does."  .  .  . 
This  scientific  principle  once  laid  down,  Balzac  consid- 
ers himself  as  the  recorder  of  the  facts  which  proceed 
from  it.  He  would  do  for  his  own  time  what  Walter 
Scott  had  done  for  the  Middle  Ages,  and  thus  "give  the 
novel  its  philosophical  value  of  history."  He  would  be 
simply  a  secretary  of  society,  would  take  an  inventory  of 
its  vices  and  virtues,  would  relate  its  deeds,  paint  its  char- 
acters, making  "types  by  means  of  the  traits  of  several 
homogeneous  characters,"  and  thereby  leave  a  history  of 
the  manners  of  his  own  time  such  as  had  never  been 
bequeathed  to  posterity  by  any  other  writer  of  any  epoch. 
And  then  when  all  these  facts  had  been  noted  he  would 


164  Ten  Frenchmen 

go  beneath  the  surface  and  study  their  causes,  find  out 
the  "social  motor,"  dwell  on  "natural  principles,"  and 
determine  how  closely  society  comes  to  "the  eternal  rule 
of  the  true  and  good."  But  already  he  can  affirm  that 
society  does  not  harm  man,  as  Rousseau  argued.  It  im- 
proves him.  He  is  "neither  good  nor  bad;  he  is  born 
with  instincts  and  aptitudes,"  but  "self-interest  does 
develop  his  evil  inclinations, ' '  which  it  is  the  province  of 
the  church  to  suppress.  In  other  places  he  is  even  more 
explicit  about  individual  development.  He  says  that  the 
social  law  affecting  man  is  that  of  "each  for  himself," 
what  we  now  term  "the  survival  of  the  fittest."  And 
necessarily  in  telling  the  truth  about  what  he  sees  he  nar- 
rates many  things  which  are  unpleasant,  vicious,  and 
criminal,  the  consequence  of  his  secretaryship  of  society. 
Balzac,  as  we  see,  lays  down  theoretically  the  two 
leading  principles  of  French  realism,  the  treatment  of 
humanity  from  the  physiological  point  of  view,  and  the 
portrayal  of  society  as  a  whole,  the  upper,  middle,  and 
lower  strata.  And  he  justifies  his  theory  by  his  practice. 
Indeed,  he  justified  it  in  practice  long  before  he  formulated 
it  in  words.  With  the  exception  of  some  notable  works, 
all  his  stories  and  novels  are  based  on  the  assumption  that 
man  is  guided  by  "his  instincts  and  aptitudes";  that  he 
observes  the  law  of  "each  one  for  himself";  or  in  other 
words,  that  he  is  governed  by  his  appetites,  physical  or 
mental;  that  he  seeks  for  luxury  or  power,  that  his  goal 
is  enjoyment,  and  his  whole  conception  of  life  materialistic. 
The  men  who  engage  in  these  struggles,  and  the  women 
also,  represent  all  classes  of  society,  but  more  especially 
the  middle  class,  the  Third  Estate  which  planned  the 
French  Revolution,  which  profited  again  by  the  Revolution 


Balzac  and  Realism  in  Literature         165 

of  1830,  and  under  Guizot's  leadership  came  into  its  own 
with  Louis  Philippe,  whose  reign  bounds  Balzac's  chief 
literary  productiveness.  Science  in  fiction  and  democracy 
are  his  mottoes.  He  rarely  proves  false  to  them. 

Take,  for  instance,  his  heroes.  Who  are  the  young 
men  in  his  novels,  whence  do  they  come,  and  what  do  they 
want?  They  are,  as  a  rule,  poor  country  lads,  with 
respectable  connections,  who  want  social  prominence  at 
Paris.  They  are  ambitious.  They  care  for  money,  to 
be  sure,  but  only  as  a  means  to  an  end — power.  Balzac 
has  rung  the  changes  on  the  greed  for  gain.  He  has 
sketched  misers,  like  Gobseck  or  old  Grandet ;  he  •  has 
portrayed  the  rage  of  relatives  as  they  crowd  to  seize  the 
property  of  the  weak  or  the  legacy  of  the  dying  or  dead, 
as  in  "Ursule  Mirouet"  or  "Cousin  Pons";  he  has  shown 
the  straits  to  which  the  need  of  money  reduces  aspirants 
to  social  honors,  as  in  "Pere  Goriot."  But  his  heroes,  it 
must  be  confessed,  are  not  interested  in  money  for  itself. 
They  wish  it  for  what  it  will  bring.  Apart  from  this  dis- 
tinction they  are  as  unscrupulous  in  getting  it  as  the  misers 
are.  No  pricks  of  conscience  restrain  them  in  their  self- 
ish desire.  And  if  they  attain  their  goal  they  do  so  at 
the  expense  of  others  weaker  than  they,  and  sometimes 
better  than  they.  To  these  gladiators  in  the  struggle  for 
existence  even  love  appeals  only  as  a  weapon  with  which 
they  may  hew  their  way  to  something  material,  higher 
up;  and  marriage  is  a  business  arrangement  which,  if 
well  carried  out,  frees  one  from  his  creditors.  Still,  in 
the  majority  of  cases  the  assumed  or  real  love  of  these 
men  does  not  lead  to  marriage.  They  pay  their  court  to 
married  women  by  whom  they  expect  to  be  more  quickly 
advanced. 


1 66  Ten  Frenchmen 

And  his  heroines?  With  hardly  an  exception  they  are 
the  victims  of  man.  Their  love  once  won  by  the  social 
struggler  is  used  to  the  full  extent  of  its  worth  by  him, 
and  then  thrown  aside  when  no  further  advantage  is  to 
be  derived  from  it.  Whether  married  or  not  the  story  is 
the  same.  Few  of  the  married  women  are  happy.  They 
look  for  consolation  and  affection  outside  of  marriage,  and 
are  easily  beguiled  by  the  first  adventurer  who  presents 
himself.  Yet  Balzac  believed  in  these  marriages  de  con- 
venance,  as  the  saying  is,  and  opposed  marriages  for  love. 
In  his  "Memoirs  of  Two  Young  Brides"  we  trace  the 
happy — or  phlegmatic — career  of  the  one  who  married  for 
material  reasons,  and  see  it  contrasted  with  the  unhappy 
career — because,  forsooth,  of  financial  troubles — of  the 
one  who  married  for  love.  The  material  outcome  dwarfs 
all  others  in  his  eyes.  Still  his  ideal,  Madame  de  Mort- 
sauf,  who  made  the  proper  marriage  ("The  Lily  in  the 
Valley")  is  anything  but  happy.  Nor,  on  the  other  hand, 
is  Madame  Claes,  devoted  to  her  husband,  who  in  turn  is  all 
wrapped  up  in  the  scientific  pursuits  which  finally  destroy 
her  ("La  Recherche  de  1'Absolu").  The  girls  who  fail 
to  marry  the  man  they  love  are  not  happy  ("Eugenie 
Grandet"),  nor  are  those  who  succeed  in  doing  so 
("Beatrix,"  "The  Muse  of  the  Department").  We  are 
puzzled  to  understand  why  with  so  many  heroines  who 
are  seeking  for  happiness  through  love  so  few  succeed  in 
attaining  it.  But  Balzac  gives  his  own  reasons.  Women 
are  born  to  serve  men.  They  are  destined  to  sorrow  and 
to  suffer.  Their  mission  is  to  help  the  sterner  sex,  even 
at  the  expense  of  their  own  hearts.  The  best  among 
them  lead  but  a  thankless  life.  As  he  says  in  "Eugenie 
Grandet,"  where  he  sums  up  his  theory  on  this  point: 


Balzac  and  Realism  in  Literature         167 

"To  feel,  to  love,  to  suffer,  to  sacrifice  themselves  to 
others,  will  always  be  the  text  of  women's  lives." 

The  rascals  are  not  Balzac's  only  heroes.  His  novels, 
even  his  leading  ones,  contain  characters  which  he  con- 
siders good  or  are  really  so.  He  evidently  considers  old 
Goriot  good,  who  allows  himself  to  be  plundered  by  his 
self-seeking  daughters,  and  who  encourages  them  in  all 
their  immoral  conduct,  provided  it  will  bring  them  happi- 
ness ("Pere  Goriot").  He  seems  to  look  upon  the  fond 
mother  in  "Beatrix"  as  good  even  in  her  desire  to  see  her 
son  gratify  his  passion.  And  he  surely  thinks  the  wife 
good  in  "La  Recherche  de  PAbsolu,"  who  allows  her 
husband  to  ruin  the  family.  All  these  are  types  of  affec- 
tion, and  others  might  be  included,  as  Cousin  Pons.  But 
there  are  good  people  in  Balzac  who  prosper.  In  his 
longer  stories  a  noteworthy  instance  is  the  Birotteau  fam- 
ily ("Cesar  Birotteau"),  and  Daniel  Darchon,  the  journal- 
ist, who  appears  now  and  then  in  the  histories  of  Parisian 
life.  And  in  many  of  his  tales  of  manners  outside  of 
Paris,  "The  Country  Doctor,"  "The  Village  Curate," 
"Modeste  Mignon,"  and  many  others,  we  see  good  peo- 
ple at  work  who  reach  good  results.  Indeed,  in  these 
provincial  scenes  he  is  a  more  accurate  observer.  He 
gives  a  wider  view  of  man.  For  one  reason  and  another 
the  moment  Balzac  catches  a  glimpse  of  Paris  or  Pari- 
sians his  sense  of  observation  is  blunted,  his  judgment 
impaired,  and  his  desires  for  luxury  taking  fire  with  the 
contact  flame  up  in  extravagant  portrayals  of  an  existence 
which  is  partly  real,  but  which  is  mainly  created  by  his 
own  imaginative  longings  and  by  the  theories  of  the  cor- 
rupting influence  of  society  he  had  inherited  from  Rousseau. 
An  example  of  this  literary  legacy  is  the  character  of 


1 68  Ten  Frenchmen 

Vautrin  in  "Pere  Goriot,"  as  well  as  the  demoralization 
which  sets  in  on  his  provincials  when  they  once  tread  the 
streets  of  the  capital. 

Balzac,  the  secretary  of  society,  the  painter  of  so  many 
scenes  and  of  so  many  people  that  are  real,  possessed 
other  gifts  as  a  novelist.  As  an  omnivorous  reader  he 
had  chanced  on  the  books  of  the  mystics,  he  had  reveled 
in  Dante's  pictures  of  the  unseen,  he  had  imbibed  notions 
of  mesmerism,  he  had  studied  the  tenets  of  Swedenborg. 
The  result  is  a  number  of  stories  and  novels  which  cannot 
be  classed  as  realistic,  but  as  romantic,  imaginative.  In 
them  he  never  saw  what  he  describes.  Under  this  head 
comes  "The  Magic  Skin"  (1831),  whose  steady  contrac- 
tion reveals  to  his  owner  his  waning  life;  "Louis  Lambert" 
(1832),  part  of  which  is  an  autobiography  of  the  author 
while  at  school  at  Vendome,  part  the  sketch  of  a  romantic 
hero  like  Goethe's  "Werther"  or  Chateaubriand's 
"Rene", "  epistolary  in  his  habits  and  misunderstood  by 
the  world,  and  part  Swedenborgian  mysticism.  But  the 
crown  of  all  this  writing  is  "Seraphita"  (1835),  a  presen- 
tation of  the  doctrines  of  Swedenborg,  by  means  of  fiction, 
where  the  hero  shows  himself  as  a  man,  Seraphitus,  to 
Minna,  the  type  of  earthly  love,  and  as  a  woman,  Sera- 
phita, to  Wilfrid,  who  personifies  worldly  ambition.  The 
teachings  of  this  twofold  being  gradually  wean  the  two 
mundanes  from  their  material  desires,  and  when  in  pro- 
cess of  time  the  body  of  this  being  is  wholly  transformed 
by  her  soul,  and  she  becomes  transfigured,  the  two,  ripe 
at  last  for  heavenly  love,  are  permitted  to  witness  her 
transfiguration.  Thus  Balzac  redeems  his  materialism 
by  a  poetical  picture  of  the  ideal  state. 


Balzac  and  Realism  in  Literature         169 

SELECTIONS   FROM   THE   WORKS   OF   BALZAC 
From  the  Preface  to  "The  Human  Comedy''1  (1842) 

In  giving  to  a  work  undertaken  almost  thirteen  years  ago  the 
name  of  The  Human  Comedy  it  is  necessary  to  say  what  its  idea 
was,  to  tell  its  origin,  explain  its  plan  briefly,  while  trying  to 
speak  of  these  things  as  though  I  was  not  interested  in  them 

The  idea  of  The  Human  Comedy  was  first  like  a  dream  in  my 
mind,  like  one  of  those  impossible  projects  which  you  cherish  and 
allow  to  escape. 

This  idea  came  from  a  comparison  between  mankind  and 
animals. 

....  In  reading  again  the  extraordinary  works  of  the  mystics 
who  have  busied  themselves  with  science  in  its  relation  to  the 
infinite,  such  as  Swedenborg,  Saint-Martin,  etc.,  and  the  writings 
of  the  best  geniuses  in  natural  history,  such  as  Leibnitz,  Buff  on, 
Charles  Bonnet,  etc.,  we  find  in  the  monads  of  Leibnitz,  the 
organic  molecules  of  Buffon,  the  vegetating  force  of  Needham, 
the  fitting  together  of  similar  parts  of  Charles  Bonnet,  who  was  so 
daring  as  to  write,  in  1760,  "The  animal  vegetates  like  the  plant," 
we  find,  I  say,  the  rudiments  of  that  fine  law  of  self  for  self  on 
which  unity  of  composition  rests.  There  is  but  one  animal.  The 
Creator  used  but  one  and  the  same  model  for  all  organized  beings. 
The  animal  is  a  principle  which  takes  its  external  form,  or  speak- 
ing more  exactly,  the  differences  of  its  form  from  the  surround- 
ings in  which  it  is  called  upon  to  develop  itself.  Zoological 
species  result  from  these  differences 

Imbued  with  this  system  long  before  the  debates  to  which  it 
gave  rise,  I  saw  that  in  this  respect  society  resembled  nature. 
Does  not  society  make  of  man,  according  to  the  environment  in 
which  its  action  is  exerted,  as  many  different  men  as  there  are 
varieties  in  zoology?  The  differences  between  a  soldier,  a  work- 
man, an  administrator,  a  lawyer,  an  idler,  a  scientist,  a  statesman, 
a  trader,  a  sailor,  a  poet,  a  poor  man,  a  priest  are,  though  more 
difficult  to  grasp,  as  great  as  those  which  distinguish  the  wolf,  the 
lion,  the  ass,  the  crow,  the  shark,  the  seal,  the  sheep,  etc.  There- 
fore social  species  have  existed,  will  always  exist,  just  as  much  as 


170  Ten  Frenchmen 

zoological  species.  If  Buffon  did  a  magnificent  work  in  trying  to 
represent  in  one  book  all  of  zoology,  was  there  not  a  work  of  this 
kind  to  be  done  for  society?  But  in  the  case  of  the  animal  vari- 
eties nature  has  placed  limits  which  could  not  contain  society. 
When  Buffon  painted  the  lion  he  finished  the  picture  of  the  lioness 
in  a  few  phrases ;  whereas  in  society  woman  is  not  always  the 
female  of  man.  There  can  be  two  completely  unlike  beings  in 

one  household The  description  of  the  social  species  was, 

therefore,  at  least  double  that  of  the  animal  species,  taking  only 
the  two  sexes  into  consideration.  Finally  there  are  few  dramas 
among  animals,  there  is  scarcely  any  confusion;  they  attack  each 
other,  that  is  all.  Men  also  attack  each  other,  but  their  greater 
or  less  degree  of  intelligence  makes  their  conflict  more  compli- 
cated  Then  Buffon  found  life  among  animals  very  simple. 

The  animal  has  but  little  furniture,  it  has  neither  arts  nor  sciences; 
while  man,  by  a  law  which  is  yet  to  be  determined,  tends  to  repre- 
sent his  manners,  his  thought,  and  his  life  in  everything  he  appro- 
priates to  his  needs The  habits  of  each  animal  are,  in  our 

eyes  at  least,  constantly  alike  at  all  times;  while  the  habits,  the 
clothes,  the  words,  the  dwellings  of  a  prince,  a  banker,  an  artist, 
a  tradesman,  a  priest,  and  a  poor  man  are  wholly  unlike  and 
change  with  changing  civilizations. 

So  the  work  to  be  done  must  have  a  threefold  form :  men, 
women,  and  things;  that  is  to  say,  people  and  the  material  repre- 
sentation they  make  of  their  thought;  in  short,  man  and  life 

But  how  make  a  drama  of  the  three  or  four  thousand  charac- 
ters which  a  society  offers  interesting?  How  please  at  the  same 
time  the  poet,  the  philosopher,  and  the  masses  who  wish  poetry 
and  philosophy  in  striking  pictures?  ....  Walter  Scott  raised 
the  romance  to  the  philosophical  value  of  history  ....  He  put 
into  it  the  spirit  of  olden  times,  combined  in  it  drama,  dialogue, 
portrait,  landscape,  description;  he  caused  to  enter  into  it  the 

marvelous  and  the  true Though  ....  dazzled  by  the 

surprising  fecundity  of  Walter  Scott  ....  I  did  not  despair, 
for  I  found  the  reason  for  this  talent  in  the  infinite  variety  of 

human  nature French  society  was  to  be  the  historian.  I 

was  to  be  the  secretary  only.  By  drawing  up  an  inventory  of 
vices  and  virtues,  by  collecting  the  principal  deeds  of  the  passions, 


Balzac  and  Realism  in  Literature         171 

by  painting  characters,  by  choosing  the  leading  events  of  society, 
by  forming  types  out  of  the  union  of  the  features  of  several  homo- 
geneous characters,  perhaps  I  might  succeed  in  writing  the  history 
which  had  been  forgotten  by  so  many  historians,  the  history  of 
manners.  With  much  patience  and  courage  I  might  realize  with 
France  of  the  nineteenth  century  that  book  we  all  regret  Rome, 
Athens,  Tyre,  Memphis,  Persia,  and  India  did  not  leave  to  us  about 

their  civilizations As  to  the  intimate  sense,  the  soul  of 

that  work,  here  are  the  principles  on  which  it  is  based. 

Man  is  neither  good  nor  evil ;  he  is  born  with  instincts  and 
aptitudes;  society,  far  from  making  him  depraved,  as  Rousseau 
has  claimed,  perfects  him,  makes  him  better;  but  self-interest 
also  develops  his  bad  inclinations.  Christianity,  and  Roman 
Catholicism  especially,  being,  as  I  have  said  in  "The  Country 
Doctor,"  a  complete  system  of  repression  for  the  depraved  ten- 
dencies of  man,  is  the  greatest  element  of  social  order 

In  copying  all  society,  grasping  it  in  the  immensity  of  its 
movements,  it  happens,  it  was  bound  to  happen,  that  such  and 
such  a  composition  offered  more  evil  than  good,  that  such  and 

such  a  section  of  the  fresco  represented  a  guilty  group In 

this  respect  I  must  call  attention  to  the  fact  that  the  most  consci- 
entious moralists  very  much  doubt  whether  society  can  offer  as 
many  good  actions  as  it  does  bad  ones,  and  in  the  picture  I  make 

of  it  there  are  more  virtuous  than  blameworthy  people 

Obliged  to  conform  to  the  ideas  of  an  essentially  hypocritical 
country,  Walter  Scott  was  humanly  false  in  his  portrayal  of  woman, 
because  his  models  were  dissenters.  The  Protestant  woman  has 
no  ideal.  She  may  be  chaste,  pure,  virtuous,  but  her  unemotional 

love  will  always  be  calm  and  composed  like  a  duty  done 

In  Protestantism  there  is  nothing  possible  for  woman  after  sin, 
while  in  the  Catholic  Church  the  hope  of  pardon  makes  her  sub- 
lime. So  there  is  but  one  kind  of  woman  for  a  Protestant  writer, 
while  the  Catholic  author  finds  a  new  woman  in  each  new  situ- 
ation. .  .  .  Passion  is  humanity  entire.  Without  it  religion,  his- 
tory, fiction,  art,  would  be  useless. 

In  seeing  me  gather  together  so  many  facts  and  paint  them  as 
they  are  with  passion  for  an  element,  some  people  have  very 
wrongly  imagined  that  I  belonged  to  the  sensualist  and  materialist 


1 72  Ten  Frenchmen 

school,  two  faces  of  the  same  thing,  pantheism.  But  perhaps 
they  might  be,  are'bound  to  be,  mistaken.  I  do  not  at  all  share 
the  belief  in  the  indefinite  progress  of  society:  I  believe  in  the 
progress  of  the  individual.  Those  who  think  they  see  in  me  an 
intention  to  consider  man  as  a  finite  creature  are  strangely  mis- 
taken. "Seraphita,"  the  doctrine  of  the  Christian  Buddha  in 
action,  seems  to  me  a  sufficient  answer  to  that  lightly  advanced 
accusation 

In  noticing  the  sense  of  this  work  you  will  recognize  that  I 
grant  to  constant,  daily  facts,  secret  or  manifest,  to  the  acts  of 
individual  lives,  their  causes  and  their  principles,  as  much  impor- 
tance as  historians  have  hitherto  attached  to  events  in  the  public 
life  of  nations.  The  unknown  battle  waged  in  a  valley  of  the  Indre 
between  Madame  de  Mortsauf  and  passion  is  perhaps  as  great  as 
the  most  illustrious  of  known  battles  ("The  Lily  in  the  Valley"). 
In  the  latter  the  glory  of  a  conqueror  is  at  stake;  in  the  other 
heaven.  The  misfortunes  of  the  Birotteaus,  the  priest,  and  the 
perfumer  are  for  me  the  misfortunes  of  humanity.  La  Fosseuse 
("The  Country  Doctor")  and  Madame  Graslin  ("The  Village 
Curate")  represent  almost  complete  types  of  women.  We  suffer 
in  this  way  every  day.  I  have  had  to  do  a  hundred  times  what 
Richardson  did  but  once.  Lovelace  has  a  thousand  forms,  for 
social  corruption  takes  on  the  colors  of  all  the  surroundings  in 
which  it  is  developed. 

The  immensity  of  a  plan  which  at  the  same  time  embraces 
history  and  the  criticism  of  society,  the  analysis  of  its  evils  and 
the  discussion  of  its  principles,  authorizes  me,  I  think,  to  give  my 
work  the  title  under  which  it  appears  to-day,  "The  Human  Com- 
edy." Is  this  ambitious?  Is  it  only  just?  That  is  what  the 
public  will  decide  when  the  work  is  ended. 


SAINTE-BEUVE'S  OPINION  OF  BALZAC  IN  1834 

[Article  occasioned  by  "La  Recherche  de  1'Absolu."] 

It  is  time  to  come,  in  this  gallery  which  without  it  would  be 
incomplete,  to  the  most  productive,  the  most  popular,  of  contempo- 
rary novelists,  to  the  novelist  of  the  moment  par  excellence,  to  that 


Balzac  and  Realism  in  Literature        173 

one  who  unites  in  so  great  number  the  qualities  or  the  defects  of 
speed,  abundance,  interest,  chance,  and  prestige,  which  the  title  of 
story-teller  or  novelist  presupposes.  M.  de  Balzac  has  become 
celebrated  in  this  way  within  four  years  only.  His  "Last 
Chouan,"  in  1829,  called  attention  to  him  for  the  first  time,  but 
without  raising  him  above  the  crowd;  his  "Physiology  of  Mar- 
riage" had  won  for  him  the  reputation  of  a  witty  man,  an  exact 
observer,  ....  but  it  is  with  "The  Magic  Skin"  that  M.  de 
Balzac  first  gained  the  ear  of  the  public,  which  he  has  since,  if 
not  entirely  won  over,  at  least  stirred,  furrowed  in  every  direction, 
astonished,  surprised,  shocked,  or  tickled  in  a  thousand  ways. 
And  we  must  admit  that  in  this  rapid  success,  aside  from  the 
trumpeting  at  the  beginning  about  the  sale  of  "The  Magic  Skin," 
the  press  of  Paris  has  been  but  a  sorry  ally  of  M.  de  Balzac's, 
that  he  has  himself  created  his  vogue  and  favor  with  many  people 
by  dint  of  activity,  inventiveness,  each  new  work  serving,  so  to 
speak,  as  an  advertisement  and  aid  to  its  predecessor.  M.  de 
Balzac  at  the  very  start  secured  for  himself  one-half  of  the  public, 
which  it  is  very  essential  to  gain,  and  has  made  it  his  accomplice 
by  artfully  flattering  its  secretly  known  fibers.  "Woman  is  on 
Balzac's  side,"  M.  Janin  has  somewhere  said.  "She  belongs  to 
him  in  her  finery,  in  her  neglige,  in  the  most  minute  things  of  her 
heart;  he  dresses  and  undresses  her."  ....  In  order  to  insinu- 
ate himself  among  women  with  his  stories  and  novels,  he  hit  on 
the  fortunate  moment,  when  their  imagination  was  most  aroused, 
after  the  July  Revolution,  by  the  pictures  and  the  promises  of 

Saint-Simonism Saint-Simonism,   M.  de   Balzac   on  his 

part,  the  illustrious  writer  called  George  Sand  on  hers,  have  been 
the  instruments  and  organs  of  that  change  which  has  come  about, 
not  at  all  in  manners,  but  in  the  expression  of  manners.  In  the 
provinces  especially,  where  the  existence  of  some  women  is  more 
sorrowful,  more  stifled,  more  pallid,  than  in  Parisian  society, 
where  discord  in  the  marriage  relation  is  more  compressing  and 
less  easy  to  escape  from,  M.  de  Balzac  has  met  with  keen  and 
tender  enthusiasm.  The  number  of  women  from  twenty-eight  to 
thirty-five,  to  whom  he  tells  their  secrets,  who  make  a  profession 
of  loving  Balzac,  who  discuss  his  genius  and  try,  pen  in  hand,  to 
embroider  and  vary  in  their  turn  the  inexhaustible  theme  of  these 


174  Ten  Frenchmen 

charming  stories,  "The  Woman  of  Thirty,"  "The  Unhappy 
Woman,"  "The  Abandoned  Woman,"  is  great  there 

One  of  the  reasons  which  further  explains  Balzac's  rapid 
vogue  throughout  France  is  his  skill  in  the  successive  choice  of 
the  places  where  he  sets  the  scene  of  his  tales.  Travelers  are 
shown  in  one  of  the  streets  of  Saumur  Eugenie  Grandet's  house; 
at  Douai  probably  they  are  already  pointing  out  the  Claes  house. 
With  what  mild  pride  the  possessor  of  La  Grenadiere  must  have 
smiled,  indolent  Tourangean  that  he  is !  This  flattery  directed  at 
each  city  where  the  author  places  his  characters  is  as  good  as 

winning  it In  Paris,  on  the  contrary,  his  success  has  been 

less,  though  very  considerable  still;  but  he  is  denied  several 
merits.  As  poet,  as  artist,  as  writer,  his  sentiment  has  often  been 
decried,  and  his  manner  of  composition.  He  has  had  difficulty  in 
pushing  himself,  in  ranking  himself  higher  than  his  popularity,  and 
in  spite  of  his  redoubtable  talent,  in  spite  of  his  marvelously  deli- 
cate observation,  he  fails  to  rise  to  a  certain  serious  position  in 

the  esteem  of  some  people To  these  reproaches,  more  or 

less  well  founded,  to  these  dislikes  or  this  disdain,  too  often 
justifiable,  M.  de  Balzac  has  answered  only  by  an  increasing  con- 
fidence in  his  imagination  and  an  exuberance  of  novels,  of  which 
some  have  found  favor  in  all  eyes,  and  merit  a  triumph.  The 
author  of  "Louis  Lambert"  and  "Eugenie  Grandet"  is  no  longer 
a  man  whom  we  can  reject  and  fail  to  recognize 

M.  de  Balzac  has  a  very  keen,  deep  feeling  for  private  life, 
which  often  goes  as  far  as  minutiae  in  detail,  and  as  far  as  supersti- 
tion. He  knows  how  to  move  you  and  make  you  tremble  at  the  very 
outset,  merely  by  describing  a  garden  walk,  a  dining-room,  a  set 
of  furniture.  He  divines  the  mysteries  of  provincial  life,  he  some- 
times invents  them.  He  most  often  fails  to  recognize  the  modest, 
quiet,  concealed  part  of  this  style  of  life,  and  violates  both  it  and 
the  poetry  it  hides.  He  succeeds  better  in  the  parts  that  are  less 

delicate  from  the  moral  standpoint In  the  invention  of  his 

subject,  as  well  as  in  the  details  of  style,  Balzac's  pen  is  flowing, 
uneven,  sensational.  He  goes,  he  starts  at  a  gentle  walk,  he 
gallops  wonderfully,  and  suddenly  there  he  is  down,  but  rises  to 
fall  again.  Most  of  his  beginnings  are  charming,  but  his  endings 
degenerate  or  become  excessive.  There  is  a  moment,  a  point, 


Balzac  and  Realism  in  Literature         175 

where  he  runs   away  in  spite  of  himself.     His  coolness  as  an 

observer  leaves  him Chance  and  accident  play  a  great 

part  even  in  his  best  productions.  He  has  a  manner,  but  it  is 
uncertain,  restless,  often  seeking  to  find  itself.  You  feel  you  have 
a  man  who  has  written  thirty  volumes  before  acquiring  a  manner. 
When  one  has  been  so  long  in  finding  it,  he  is  not  very  sure  of 

always  keeping  it We  must,  however,  accept  M.  de  Balzac 

as  he  is,  and  accept  him  according  to  his  nature  and  habit.  We 
must  not  advise  him  to  make  a  selection,  to  repress  himself,  but 
to  go  on  and  continue  constantly.  He  will  make  it  up  to  us  in 
quantity.  He  is  a  little  like  those  generals  who  do  not  take  the 
smallest  position  without  lavishing  the  army's  blood  (it  is  ink  only 
that  he  lavishes)  and  losing  a  great  many  soldiers.  But  although 
economy  of  means  should  count,  the  essential  thing  after  all  is  to 
reach  a  result,  and  M.  de  Balzac  on  many  an  occasion  is  and 
remains  victorious. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

A  Memoir  of  Honor c  de  Balzac.    Katharine  Prescott  Wormeley. 

Balzac.  W.  P.  Trent.  In  Warner's  "Library  of  the  World's 
Best  Literature,"  Vol.  Ill,  or  Warner's  "Classics." 

Articles  in  The  Atlantic,  Vol.  LXXVIII,  pp.  566  ff.;  Cosmo- 
politan, Vol.  XXVI,  pp.  238  ff.;  Tlie  Chautauquan,  Vol. 
XXXIII,  pp.  180  ff. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

ZOLA 

[£MILE  £DOUARD  CHARLES  ANTOINE  ZOLA,  born  at  Paris,  April  2, 
1840;  educated  at  the  Aix  lycee,  and  Lycee  Saint  Louis  at 
Paris,  1852-1859;  clerk  at  Hachette's,  1862-1866;  journalism 
and  hack  writing,  1866-1869;  novelist,  1869;  the  Dreyfus 
Affair,  1898;  died  at  Paris,  September  29,  1902.  Chief  works, 
in  the  Rougon-Macquart  series:  "L'Assommoir,"  1877; 
"Germinal,"  1885;  "La  Debacle,"  1892.] 

The  distinguishing  characteristics  of  French  realism, 
science  and  democracy,  had  been  thoroughly  established 
by  Balzac's  "Human  Comedy."  Subsequent  adherents 
of  the  school  had  little  to  do  but  carry  out  the  principles 
laid  down  in  that  work  to  their  logical  conclusion.  And 
this  is  what  was  done.  The  generation  which  succeeded 
the  master  pushed  the  study  of  man,  the  animal,  to  an 
extreme,  and  chose  its  heroes  and  heroines  from  the  petty 
bourgeoisie  or  the  proletariat  itself.  In  Balzac  you  can 
still  find  traces  of  moral  responsibility  with  the  people 
who  play  the  parts  in  his  dramas,  while  their  social  con- 
nections rarely  fall  below  the  reputable  level  of  the  Third 
Estate  which  owned  the  government  of  Louis  Philippe. 
But  with  Flaubert,  who  had  seen  1 848  and  the  coup  d'etat, 
whose  manhood  was  passed  under  the  sway  of  that  uni- 
versal suffrage  which  buoyed  up  for  a  while  the  Second 
Empire,  and  whose  mental  training  had  been  acquired 
through  association  with  the  students  of  experimental 
medicine  and  the  expounders  of  positive  science,  the  scen- 

176 


EMILE   EDOUARD  CHARLES  ANTOINE   ZOLA 


Zola  177 

ery  changes  and  new  actors  mount  the  boards.  His  master- 
piece, "Madame  Bovary"  (1857),  is  the  panegyric  of  the 
shallow,  discontented  woman,  educated  above  her  station 
in  life,  who  knows  no  other  guide  than  her  emotions  and 
appetites.  Her  surroundings  are  ordinary,  her  acquaint- 
ances superficial  like  herself,  and  like  herself  seeking  each 
his  own  material  gratification.  And  her  story  is  told,  her 
downfall  traced,  with  a  cold-bloodedness  which  was  for- 
eign to  Balzac,  and  also  in  a  language  to  which  he  rarely 
attained.  For  the  motto  of  the  new  school  of  realists 
was  an  objectiveness  which  entirely  ruled  out  the  person- 
ality of  the  author  and  made  him  a  mechanical  recorder  of 
the  facts  he  saw.  And  united  to  this  realism  was  a  wor- 
ship of  style  which  made  art  an  end  in  itsejf,  not  a  means 
to  an  end.  This  school,  which  is  first  exemplified  in 
"Madame  Bovary,"  has  since  received  the  name  of 
"naturalistic."  It  claimed  to  be  more  faithful  to  life,  to 
nature,  than  the  school  of  the  earlier  realists. 

In  the  sixties  Flaubert's  impersonality  of  observation 
and  desire  for  artistic  composition  won  disciples  in  the 
persons  of  the  De  Goncourt  brothers.  But  they  indulged 
in  theories,  while  Flaubert  had  merely  practised.  Accept- 
ing without  reservation  the  Balzac  view  of  physiological 
man,  and  the  Flaubert  example  of  objective  reproduction 
of  facts,  they  argued  that  novel  writing  had  passed  the 
stage  of  romancing,  and  had  erected  itself  into  a  science, 
as  exact  as  medicine,  as  unimpassioned  as  history.  The 
first  duty  of  the  novelist,  therefore,  is  to  reproduce  what 
he  sees  with  the  fidelity  of  a  photograph,  uncontaminated 
by  reminiscences  or  by  ideas  obtained  from  books.  He 
should  also  be  comprehensive  in  his  facts,  and  as  the  nine- 
teenth century  was  the  century  of  democracy,  he  should 


178  Ten  Frenchmen 

introduce  the  working  classes  into  romance,  and  see 
whether  there  are  misfortunes  too  low,  too  ignoble,  to  be 
given  a  literary  setting.  For  the  novel  "is  becoming  by 
its  analysis  and  psychological  research,  the  moral  history 
of  contemporaneous  society,"  and  what  it  chronicles 
should  be  "true  biography  like  modern  historical  biog- 
raphy." Nothing  should  appear  in  the  book  but  what 
took  place  in  the  life  of  the  individual  represented  in  the 
book.  No  type  should  be  formed  by  the  fusion  of  homo- 
geneous traits,  as  had  been  Balzac's  custom,  but  each 
character  should  be  some  particular  person  who  passed 
through  the  actual  experiences  narrated.  And  as  the 
individuals  who  found  their  biographers  in  the  De  Gon- 
courts  were  uneducated,  for  the  most  part,  and  unrefined, 
we  have  the  story  of  cooks  and  unfortunate  women,  told 
us  with  an  exactness  of  details  which  leaves  nothing  to  be 
desired.  Only  they,  the  authors,  abstained  from  the 
expressions  suitable  to  the  class  they  depicted.  They 
chose  their  own  words.  This  reservation  was  illogical. 
It  contradicted  the  photographic  exactness  so  loudly  pro- 
claimed. Each  character  should  speak  his  own  language, 
and  not  the  author's.  The  De  Goncourts'  artistic  tempera- 
ment hesitated  at  this  final  step.  Zola's  did  not,  and 
with  a  courage  which  may  or  may  not  be  attributed  to  a 
desire  for  notoriety  he  carried  naturalism  to  its  conclusion. 
Zola  was  born  at.  Paris  in  1840.  His  mother  was 
French,  but  his  father  came  of  mingled  Greek  and  Italian 
stock,  was  somewhat  of  a  rover,  and  followed  the  calling 
of  a  civil  engineer.  At  the  time  of  his  son's  birth  he  was 
engaged  on  a  project  of  supplying  the  city  of  Aix,  in 
South  France,  with  water,  and  when  the  boy  was  three 
years  old  the  family  returned  to  that  town,  where  the 


Zola  179 

father  died,  in  1847.  The  mother  continued  to  live  at 
Aix,  and  aided  by  her  parents  gave  young  Zola  the  educa- 
tion which  was  at  hand,  a  private  school,  followed,  in 
1852,  by  instruction  at  the  Aix  lycee.  But  the  greater 
part  of  his  patrimony  consisted  in  lawsuits  against  the 
municipality.  Money  was  lacking,  and  in  1858  his 
mother  moved  to  Paris,  and  entered  her  son  at  the  Lycee 
Saint  Louis,  near  the  Sorbonne.  The  transference  of  the 
youth  from  the  open  life  of  Aix  to  the  confinement  of 
Paris  seems  to  have  acted  on  his  reserved  and  liberty- 
loving  nature  much  as  Balzac's  school-life  had  done  on  his. 
He  proved  a  poor  student,  failed  to  get  his  degree  at  the 
end  of  the  course,  and  failed  again  at  Marseilles  a  few 
months  later,  near  the  end  of  1859. 

During  his  school  years  Zola  had  shown  some  aptitude 
for  literary  composition,  and  had  written  the  usual  plays 
and  verse  of  the  French  lyceen.  He  was  fond  of  reading. 
Of  the  moderns  he  had  begun  with  Hugo,  but  soon  passed 
on  to  Alfred  de  Musset.  Among  the  older  French  au- 
thors Rabelais  and  Montaigne  were  his  chief  delight,  and 
undoubtedly  the  example  of  the  former  incited  him  to  his 
later  coarseness  of  expression.  But  he  had  no  way  of 
earning  a  livelihood  by  writing,  and  took  a  clerkship  in  a 
business  house,  which  he  held  but  a  few  weeks.  Now 
ensued  a  period  of  idleness  and  want.  At  night  he  would 
write,  by  day  he  would  stroll  about  the  streets,  dipping 
into  the  second-hand  books  displayed  in  such  abundance 
in  the  Latin  Quarter  of  Paris.  Finally  he  fell  into  the 
lowest  kind  of  a  lodging  house,  from  which  he  emerged  on 
his  engagement  as  clerk  by  the  publishing  firm  of  Hachette, 
in  January,  1862.  This  position  relieved  him  of  absolute 
need,  brought  him  into  contact  with  the  outside  of  books 


180  Ten  Frenchmen 

at  least,  and  at  times  into  the  presence  of  men  of  letters. 
He  seems,  however,  to  have  derived  little  benefit  from 
these  surroundings,  and  made  few  acquaintances  who 
could  help  him  in  his  literary  work.  The  stories  written 
during  this  period,  collected  in  1864  in  the  "Stories  to 
Ninon,"  are  rather  tiresome  than  otherwise.  Still  they 
afford  a  glimpse  of  the  future  Zola,  in  the  close  connec- 
tion they  assumed  between  inanimate  nature  and  man, 
both  products  of  the  same  creation,  both  loving  and  dying 
together. 

This  volume  called  some  attention  to  its  author,  and 
seems  to  have  opened  to  him  the  columns  of  Parisian  and 
provincial  newspapers.  It  also  encouraged  Zola  in  his 
literary  career,  and  in  1865  he  published  a  novel,  "Claude's 
Confession,"  which  appears  to  have  attracted  notice 
because  of  its  coarseness  only.  A  few  weeks  after  its 
appearance  Zola  left  Hachette's  employ,  and  was  at  once 
engaged  by  De  Villemessant,  the  proprietor  of  Le  Figaro, 
to  write  book  notices  for  a  new  journalistic  venture, 
L?£venement.  These  notices  proved  such  an  attraction 
that  their  author  was  intrusted  with  the  criticisms  of  the 
annual  picture  exhibition  also,  the  "Salon,"  so  called. 
Here  was  an  excellent  chance  for  self-advertising  which 
Zola  improved  to  the  utmost.  Attacks  on  the  received 
canons  of  painting  and  the  artists  in  vogue  were  accom- 
panied by  the  exaltation  of  what  is  now  named  "impres- 
sionism." The  scandal  was  great  and  the  critic  became 
notorious.  But  a  serial  story  started  in  the  same  paper 
was  a  failure,  and  De  Villemessant  soon  dropped  Zola 
from  his  staff. 

This  dismissal  took  place  ir  the  first  days  of  1867. 
Once  more  Zola  found  himself  reduced  to  a  precarious 


Zola  181 

livelihood.  He  managed  to  eke  out  a  scanty  subsistence 
by  miscellaneous  newspaper  articles,  and  a  serial  which 
ran  for  many  months  in  a  Marseilles  journal,  and  which 
was  published  in  book  form  under  the  title  of  "The  Mys- 
teries of  Marseilles."  It  was  a  compilation  of  police 
records,  strung  along  a  plot.  It  was  all  true,  because  it 
was  based  on  legal  documents,  but  its  tone  was  entirely 
melodramatic — the  virtuous  rewarded,  the  vicious  punished 
— and  its  animus  against  the  upper  social  circles  evident. 
Only  certain  of  its  phrases  and  the  conception  of  nature, 
as  an  animate  being  close  to  man,  remind  one  of  the  later 
Zola — or  rather  of  the  real  Zola.  In  the  same  year  he 
was  slowly  finishing  a  novel,  begun  in  1866,  which  does 
foreshadow  his  future  work.  This  novel  was  "Therese 
Raquin."  Its  plot  was  suggested  by  a  novel  published 
in  Le  Figaro  and  reviewed  by  Zola,  in  which  a  husband 
is  killed  by  his  wife  and  her  lover.  He  now  renews  the 
interest  of  the  story  by  showing  how  the  terror  of  their 
crime  wrecked  the  nerves  of  the  guilty  pair  and  finally 
drove  them  to  suicide. 

In  "Therese  Raquin"  we  find  the  essential  character- 
istics of  the  naturalist  school,  already  exemplified  by 
Flaubert  and  the  De  Goncourts.  The  people  in  the  book 
belong  to  the  lower  classes  of  Parisian  society,  they  have 
no  other  life  than  the  life  their  appetites  grant  them. 
And  they  own  no  other  law  than  the  law  of  the  flesh. 
They  are  animals,  endowed  with  a  finer  nervous  system 
than  the  beasts  or  birds,  and  this  nervous  system  proves 
their  ruin.  In  a  preface  in  answer  to  his  critics  Zola 
admits  this  view  of  humanity.  He  is  studying  tempera- 
ments, not  characters,  he  declares,  and  he  is  studying 
them  from  the  standpoint  of  scientific  analysis.  His 


1 82  Ten  Frenchmen 

manner  is  also  found  in  "The"rese  Raquin" — his  sensual 
descriptions,  his  favorite  phrases.  The  year  1868  saw 
another  novel  in  print,  "Madeleine  Fe"rat,"  which  was  the 
expansion  of  a  play  Zola  had  written  in  1865,  and  which 
had  been  refused  by  the  theaters.  The  success  of 
"The'rese  Raquin"  was  not  repeated,  but  certain  ideas 
of  heredity,  in  which  Zola  had  long  been  interested,  were 
here  developed  and  prepared  for  later  use. 

Ten  years  had  almost  passed  in  this  literary  apprentice- 
ship, and  still  Zola  had  not  attained  fame.  Indeed,  the 
talent  he  undoubtedly  possessed  had  scarcely  been  recog- 
nized, obscured  as  it  had  been  by  his  tendency  towards 
coarseness  and  indecency.  His  direct  use  of  the  ignoble 
term  to  express  what  was  low  had  shocked  and  offended 
the  general  public,  accustomed  to  see  vice  pleasantly 
garbed.  Force  was  conceded  to  him,  and  aggressiveness. 
Rebuffs  had  not  daunted  him.  But  that  he  occupied  any 
respectable  literary  position  in  1868  does  not  seem  to  have 
occurred  to  any  one.  Zola  himself  must  have  been  aware 
of  this  very  limited  appreciation  of  his  ability,  for  he  now 
set  to  work  to  justify  his  ambition.  He  aimed  high.  He 
would  be  the  Balzac  of  his  generation,  and  paint  for  it  the 
picture  of  its  life  and  manners  as  Balzac  had  painted  his 
contemporaries  of  the  July  Monarchy.  And  he  makes  a 
better  plan  than  Balzac  had  done.  Instead  of  connecting 
his  various  sketches  of  the  society  of  his  day  by  characters 
chosen  somewhat  at  random,  who  reappear  in  different 
novels,  Zola,  acting  under  the  influence  of  a  more  exact 
scientific  environment,  chooses  his  connecting  links  from 
the  chain  of  heredity.  His  heroes  and  heroines  will  be 
bound  to  one  another  by  the  ties  of  blood  relationship,  a 
relationship  not  of  brother  and  sister,  as  a  rule,  but  of 


Zola  1 83 

cousins  in  the  third  generation.  In  other  words,  he  will 
write  the  history  of  a  family,  but  will  make  that  family 
representative  of  its  neighbors  also,  and  thus  will  chronicle 
the  France  of  the  Second  Empire. 

Zola's  science  is  more  exact  than  Balzac's,  as  the 
science  of  1860  was  more  positive  and  experimental  than 
the  science  of  1830.  In  other  respects,  however,  he 
strongly  resembles  his  great  predecessor.  He  might  be 
called  a  Balzac  of  the  decadence.  For  with  him  physio- 
logical man  is  everything,  man  who  differs  from  the  plants 
and  animals  which  surround  him  only  by  being  a  higher 
order  of  creation.  From  nature  man  came,  to  nature  he 
shall  return.  While  on  this  earth  he  follows  the  behests 
of  nature  only,  his  appetites  of  the  body,  his  passions  of 
the  mind,  which  are  gratified  by  the  possession  of  power. 
When  his  race  is  run  he  dies  as  the  dog  dieth.  There  is 
no  religion  in  Zola,  not  even  the  superficial  religion  of 
Balzac.  He  is  an  annihilationist,  save  as  the  race  works 
out  its  own  salvation  by  life  following  closely  on  the  heels 
of  death. 

Zola  differs  from  Balzac  also  in  the  social  position  of 
his  characters.  The  Third  Estate,  which  made  the  French 
Revolution,  had  found  in  Balzac  its  great  apologist.  Zola 
goes  deeper.  Like  Flaubert  and  the  De  Goncourts  he 
digs  down  even  to  the  people,  the  workmen  and  the  peas- 
ants, and  it  is  the  epic  of  the  proletariat  and  its  successful 
offshoots  pushing  their  way  through  the  upper  strata  of 
society  which  inspires  his  pen.  So  the  field  of  observa- 
tion is  widened.  Literature  becomes  still  more  demo- 
cratic, keeping  step  with  the  social  and  political  evolution 
of  mankind.  The  influence  of  humanity  on  its  individual 
members  is  described  with  greater  precision,  the  effect  of 


184  Ten  Frenchmen 

environment  on  man's  development,  as  well  as  the  effect 
on  him  of  his  race  and  epoch.  In  1864  Taine  had  applied 
these  criteria  of  positivism  to  his  study  of  English  litera- 
ture, and  his  example  may  have  influenced  Zola  in  his 
definiteness.  For  in  his  novels  strong  natures  assimilate 
their  surroundings  to  themselves,  weak  ones  yield  to  their 
degrading  tendencies. 

With  these'  theories  fully  in  mind,  and  with  the  ambition 
to  force  them  upon  the  public  only  whetted  by  the  partial 
successes  already  attained  along  like  lines,  Zola,  in  1869, 
undertook  his  series  of  the  Rougon-Macquart  novels, 
names  which  represented  by  their  sound — another  trait  of 
Balzac's — the  strong  and  weak  sides  of  the  family,  and 
defined  the  series  by  the  sub-title  of  the  "Natural  and 
Social  History  of  a  Family  Under  the  Second  Empire." 
He  contracted  with  a  publisher  to  furnish  two  volumes  a 
year,  and  started  at  once  on  the  initial  volume.  But  vari- 
ous interruptions,  including  the  catastrophe  of  the  Franco- 
Prussian  War,  prevented  the  carrying  out  of  the  mechanical 
task  he  had  set  himself,  and  it  was  only  in  1 87 1  that  the 
first  of  the  series,  "The  Fortune  of  the  Rougons,"  ap- 
peared. The  preface  to  this  book  summarizes  what  has 
been  said:  How  a  family  under  hereditary  impulses, 
guided  by  its  physical  temperament  and  its  environment, 
a  temperament  which  has  for  its  chief  characteristic 
"overflowing  appetites"  and  desires  for  self-gratification, 
starts  at  the  bottom  of  the  social  ladder,  mounts  all  its 
rungs,  even  to  the  top,  and  thus  narrates  in  its  various 
situations  the  story  of  the  Second  Empire  "from  the 
ambush  of  the  coup  d'etat  to  the  treason  of  Sedan." 

But  another  point  remains  to  be  noticed.  This  family 
is  not  any  family  whatsoever.  It  has  a  flaw,  a  taint  in  its 


Zola  185 

blood,  an  "organic  lesion, "  which  produces  certain  disturb- 
ances of  the  nerves  and  veins  "which  determine  with  the 
individuals  of  this  race,  according  to  their  environment, 
the  feelings,  the  desires,  the  passions,  all  the  human 
manifestations,  natural  and  instinctive,  whose  products 
are  known  under  the  conventional  name  of  virtues  and 
vices."  In  other  words,  the  grandmother  of  all  the 
Rougon-Macquart  was  an  epileptic,  who  passed  among 
her  acquaintances  as  mildly  insane,  and  whose  animal 
instincts  were  not  repressed  by  private  misgivings  or 
regard  for  public  appearances.  One  branch  of  her  de- 
scendants looked  back  to  a  grandfather  who  was  a  hard- 
headed,  hard-working  peasant,  the  other  to  an  ancestor 
whose  trade  was  smuggling,  a  vagabond  by  nature,  and 
enslaved  by  drink.  So  by  their  blood  the  unhappy  grand- 
children of  either  pair  were  incited  to  wantonness  and 
bodily  enjoyment,  unrestrained  by  ethical  considerations, 
and  in  many  of  their  number  this  vicious  inclination  was 
coupled  with  a  desire  for  license  and  a  thirst  for  liquor. 
In  other  words,  by  his  very  choice,  Zola  is  consciously 
limiting  his  picture  of  imperial  society  to  exceptional  char- 
acters, persons  who  do  not  represent  the  average  of  man- 
kind, but  rather  its  diseased  minority,  what  we  now  term 
the  degenerate.  It  is  necessary  to  keep  this  fact  con- 
stantly in  mind  in  order  to  reach  a  clear  appreciation  of 
the  author's  work,  and  a  just  comprehension  of  the  extent 
to  which  the  people  of  France  are  portrayed  in  his  suc- 
cessive volumes. 

For  over  twenty  years,  1871-1893,  this  self-imposed 
labor  went  on  regularly,  systematically,  not  so  fast  as  Zola 
had  planned,  for  it  required  all  that  time  to  publish  the 
twenty  books  of  the  series,  but  quite  fast  enough  for  the 


1 86  Ten  Frenchmen 

public  demand.  At  first  the  sale  of  the  successive  biog- 
raphies was  small,  the  politician's,  the  real  estate  specula- 
tor's, the  priest's,  the  tradesman's;  and  Zola  was  forced 
to  earn  his  living  by  newspaper  work  of  various  kinds. 
Still  he  persevered,  regularly,  systematically,  setting  aside 
the  morning  hours  for  sloWj  patient  composition,  as  he 
had  once  done  in  the  case  of  "Therese  Raquin, "  and 
giving  up  his  afternoon  and  evening  to  the  pursuit  of  a 
livelihood.  If  the  adage  labor  omnia  vincit  was  ever  illus- 
trated it  was  in  the  person  of  Zola.  To  hard  and  con- 
stant and  regular  work  he  not  only  owes  his  success,  but 
seems  to  owe  the  development  of  his  talent  even.  Incon- 
siderable at  first,  unremitting  application  seems  to  have 
developed  it,  fashioned  it,  and  qualified  its  natural  strength 
with  breadth  and  picturesqueness.  His  imagination  ex- 
panded under  the  stress,  and  finally  illuminated  the  details 
his  industry  had  accumulated. 

His  method  of  preparation  was  also  uniform  and  regu- 
lar. As  he  came  to  each  occupation  or  profession  he  was 
to  describe  he  would  gather  facts  bearing  on  them,  would 
visit  the  localities  where  they  were  exercised  in  order  to 
procure  the  exact  setting  or  scenery,  would  frequent  the 
people  .engaged  in  them,  acquire  their  ways  of  speech, 
their  technical  terms,  notice  their  garb,  their  habits,  their 
amusements.  He  would  not  disdain  the  use  of  books  at 
this  time,  and  would  frequent  libraries,  reading  descrip- 
tions, copying  illustrations,  or  would  search  into  criminal 
and  civil  records  for  instances  of  typical  events,  crimes 
committed  by  artisans,  peasants,  strikes  organized  by 
miners,  financial  panics  engineered  by  operators.  And 
when  his  preparation  was  complete,  his  mind  impregnated 
with  the  surroundings,  habits,  speech  of  the  people  he 


Zola  187 

was  to  paint,  he  would  work  out  a  rough  sketch  of  their 
characters,  their  conversation,  their  connection  with  one 
another,  the  houses,  streets,  or  localities  they  frequented, 
and  all  mechanically  constructed,  divided  into  parts,  into 
scenes.  Finally,  with  this  full  outline  before  him,  he 
would  settle  down  to  the  composition,  always  in  the 
morning,  always  so  many  pages  of  print  a  day  (four  or 
three),  no  more  no  less,  writing  slowly,  carefully,  without 
corrections. 

In  this  way  he  achieved  his  purpose.  "L'Assom- 
moir, "  which  ran  in  serial  form  in  a  newspaper  until 
popular  clamor  forced  it  into  a  review,  was  published  in 
1877,  and  Zola  was  famous.  And  what  is  "L'Assom- 
moir"?  It  is  the  story  of  two  of  the  Rougon-Macquarts, 
distant  relatives,  married  to  each  other,  who  under  the 
influence  of  the  double  pressure  of  temperaments  inclined 
to  sensuality  and  drink,  and  surroundings  fostering  the 
instinctive  development  of  these  temperaments,  gradually 
fall  from  the  position  of  diligent  working  men  and  women 
to  the  padded  cell  and  the  gutter.  And  the  center  of 
their  life,  the  life  of  the  quarter,  is  "The  Assommoir, " 
the  saloon,  the  meeting-place  of  the  working  classes,  their 
solace  and  their  bane.  The  story  is  true.  Its  reality 
was  attested  by  so  many  protests  from  the  readers  of  the 
newspaper  in  which  it  began  that  they  caused  its  with- 
drawal. All  the  events  it  describes  can  be  proven  by 
documents.  But  it  is  not  typical.  Working  people  who 
do  not  work  are  few  in  number.  Someone  must  fashion 
the  vast  amount  of  material  things  which  supply  the 
demands  of  modern  life. 

"L' Assommoir"  is  not  the  only  striking  novel  of 
the  Rougon-Macquart  series,  though  it  is  quite  certainly 


1 88  Ten  Frenchmen 

its  masterpiece.  Zola  continued  on  his  way  unmoved  by 
criticism,  compliments,  or  abuse.  His  next  production 
was  less  sensational,  "A  Page  of  Love,"  and  whatever 
his  purpose,  which  he  asserts  was  psychological,  the  book 
is  mainly  interesting  for  the  variety  of  descriptions  it  con- 
tains of  the  city  of  Paris  as  seen  from  the  high  ground  of 
Passy.  Then  came  "Nana"  (1880),  devoted  to  the 
career  of  a  wanton,  with  scenes  from  the  boulevard  thea- 
ters and  horse  races.  Other  volumes  followed  of  less 
merit  of  description  and  force  of  plot,  until  in  "Germi- 
nal" (1885),  on  miners  and  mining,  Zola  again  reaches 
the  strength  of  "L'Assommoir."  In  "Germinal"  we 
see  the  beginning  of  those  socialistic  theories  which  were 
to  occupy  so  large  a  part  of  Zola's  later  writings.  "The 
Earth"  (1887),  on  peasant  existence,  is  powerful  in  its 
delineation  of  the  overwhelming  passion  the  agriculturist 
feels  for  the  land  he  tills,  but  its  episodes  are  little  else 
than  a  succession  of  sensual  and  brutal  crimes,  which  rob 
it  of  much  of  its  intended  merit.  Certain  scenes  revolted 
many  of  his  strongest  admirers,  and  the  appearance  of  the 
volume  was  followed  by  a  public  protest  against  its  ex- 
cesses, to  which  were  appended  the  signatures  of  some  of 
the  best  known  writers  of  the  younger  generation.  It  was 
evident  that  the  limits  of  "naturalism"  had  been  reached. 
Zola  himself  felt  the  sting  of  this  protest,  and  at  once 
betook  himself  to  the  composition  of  an  idyl,  "The 
Dream"  (1888),  which  would  show  the  world  that  he 
could  treat  other  subjects  than  those  which  were  furnished 
by  vice  and  degradation.  The  young  girl  of  "The 
Dream"  who  falls  in  love  with  the  militant  saint,  pictured 
in  the  cathedral  window,  has  sensuous  longings,  for  she  is 
one  of  the  Rougon-Macquart  race,  but  her  soul  is  pure 


Zola  189 

and  her  passion  ideal.  "The  Dream"  is  an  idyl  in  fact, 
but  from  it  Zola  turns  to  the  crimes  of  a  railroad  engi- 
neer, possessed  of  the  devil  of  homicide  ("The  Human 
Beast,"  1890),  and  the  lubricities  and  swindles  of  a  stock 
speculator  ("Money,"  1891).  Then  came  months  of 
preparation  for  the  story  of  the  soldier's  life  in  that  crisis 
of  the  fatherland,  the  Franco- Prussian  War  ("La 
Debacle"  "The  Downfall,"  1892),  where  the  sacrifice 
of  the  armies  of  France  to  the  political  necessities  of  the 
Bonapartist  dynasty  is  recited  in  tones  which  at  times 
exceed  the  epic  elevation  of  "Germinal."  Finally  the 
concluding  volume  of  the  series  appears.  We  follow  the 
career  of  the  philosopher  of  the  family  ("Doctor  Pascal," 
1893),  and  his  meditative  review  of  the  hereditary  ten- 
dencies so  fully  displayed  in  the  lives  of  his  more  worldly 
kinsmen. 

The  Rougon-Macquart  novels  remain  the  great  work 
of  Zola.  They  show  his  purpose  and  his  manner.  He 
stands  or  falls  with  them.  The  first  impression  they 
make  as  a  whole  is  one  of  vulgarity  and  coarseness. 
Accepting  the  premises  from  which  they  are  derived,  that 
they  are  the  history  of  the  lower  classes,  or  rather  of  a 
portion  of  the  populace  which  has  inherited  evil  instincts, 
that  this  history  is  almost  wholly  physiological,  and  merely 
chronicles  the  doings  of  the  human  animal,  we  neverthe- 
less cannot  deny  that  the  narrative  is  overcharged  with 
episodes  of  crime  and  sensuality.  If  it  is  necessary  to  tell 
all  the  ignoble  details  of  a  degraded  existence  in  order  to 
make  it  true  to  life,  perhaps  "L'Assommoir"  is  artis- 
tically correct.  But  "Nana"  is  not,  nor  "Germinal," 
where  the  coarse  episodes  detract  greatly  from  the  real 
import  of  the  story;  nor  "The  Earth,"  where  these  same 


190  Ten  Frenchmen 

/ 
episodes  overpower  the  excellent  conception  of  the  book; 

nor  "La  Debacle,"  where  they  can  be  entirely  passed 
over,  erased,  without  affecting  the  narrative  in  the  least. 
And  it  is  quite  useless  for  Zola  to  defend  his  superfluity 
of  vulgarity  with  the  threadbare  argument  that  "every- 
thing should  be  said,  that  there  are  abominable  words  as 
necessary  as  a  cauterizing  iron,"  which  he  urges  in  his 
story  of  an  artist's  life  ("L'CEuvre,"  "The  Work," 
1886).  The  excess  of  these  scenes  and  expressions,  dis- 
turbing as  they  often  do  the  action  of  the  plot,  proves  that 
the  author's  artistic  sense  is  often  overruled  by  a  natural 
liking  for  them,  which  "Claude's  Confession"  had  fore- 
shadowed. 

But  there  is  one  conception  of  Zola  which  he  uses  to 
justify  this  coarseness,  a  conception  of  "vast  nature 
eternally  in  creation,  life  in  short,  total,  universal  life, 
which  goes  from  one  end  of  the  animal  kingdom  to  the 
other,  neither  high  nor  low,  neither  beautiful  nor  ugly," 
that  commands  our  respect,  though  it  entails  at  times  a 
certain  broadness  of  description.  The  conception  is  in 
essence  pantheistic.  Man  and  nature  are  one.  They 
bloom,  mature,  and  die  together.  The  animal  is  man's 
brother.  What  matters  it  whether  he  or  the  animal  is 
perpetuated,  so  long  as  the  life  of  the  world  goes  on  from 
generation  to  generation?  This  idea,  which  lies  at  the 
bottom  of  Zola's  best  composition,  is  particularly  elabo- 
rated in  one  of  his  earlier  stories,  "The  Sin  of  Abbe 
Mouret"  (1874),  where  that  priest,  wandering  one  day 
into  a  wildwood  just  expanding  under  the  breath  of 
spring,  meets  with  a  child  of  nature  as  shy  as  a  bird,  and 
as  untrained,  loves  her  amid  the  flowering  of  nature,  and 
is  reclaimed  to  duty  as  the  grain  yellows  to  the  harvest. 


Zola  1 9 1 

And  the  woodland  sprite,  abandoned,  dies,  suffocated  by 
the  ripe  perfume  of  those  flowers  whose  buds  had  taught 
her  love.  Here  is  the  elegy.  Then  comes  the  grotesque, 
but  which  only  strengthens  the  author's  argument.  As 
the  stricken  maiden  is  lowered  into  the  grave,  in  the 
neighboring  stable  a  calf  is  born.  So  life  continues  on  the 
earth.  So  nature  is  the  mother  of  all,  untiring,  resistless, 
turning  the  dead  into  the  living.  The  miners  of  "Germi- 
nal, ' '  radiating  through  the  veins  of  the  mine,  are  merely 
furrowing  the  land  for  a  future  generation  of  the  just  and 
good.  Nature  is  also  beneficent,  fertile,  providing  food 
for  man  and  beast. 

This  notion  of  nature  approaches  symbolism,  and  many 
of  the  Rougon-Macquart  novels  are  illustrated  by  sym- 
bols. As  Hugo  had  made  the  great  cathedral  the  central 
point  of  his  "Notre-Dame  de  Paris,"  so  Zola  expresses  the 
idea  of  "L'Assommoir, "  by  the  saloon,  of  "Germinal" 
by  the  shaft,  which  daily  swallows  up  and  daily  disgorges 
the  population  of  the  whole  region,  of  "Le  Ventre  de 
Paris"  (1873)  by  the  fish  market,  of  "The  Work"  by  the 
painting  which  never  satisfies.  These  symbols  are  evi- 
dent. There  are  others  more  recondite.  The  idea  of 
"Nana, "  for  instance,  is  in  Zola's  mind  the  allegory  of  a 
beautiful  flower  growing  on  the  dunghill  of  society,  which 
poisons  by  its  exhalations  the  whole  social  system. 
Therefore,  if  society  allows  its  weaker  section  to  fester  in 
sin  and  want,  it  will  perish  by  the  miasma  exhaled  from 
the  corruption.  But  it  must  be  confessed  that  this  moral 
application  is  not  suggested  by  the  reading  of  the  novel 
in  question. 

When  we  look  beyond  the  general  conception  of  Zola's 
books  to  the  details  which  form  them  we  see  that  his 


192  Ten  Frenchmen 

power  lies  in  his  descriptions.  His  people  are  too  often 
automatons.  They  are  quite  usually  eccentricities.  They 
have  instincts  instead  of  character.  Consequently  we  are 
rarely  attracted  to  them,  though  we  may  at  times  deplore 
their  misfortunes.  But  his  descriptions  of  things  and 
places,  of  nature  in  its  varying  manifestations,  of  groups 
of  men  and  the  works  of  man,  are  not  excelled  by  any 
writer  of  his  generation.  It  is  interesting  to  note  how  he 
produces  his  great  descriptive  effects.  He  begins  with  the 
smallest  objects,  coins  a  picturesque  expression,  the 
"black  ants"  of  the  German  armies  in  "La  Debacle" 
for  instance,  which  he  repeats  and  repeats,  enlarging 
steadily  his  circle  of  observation.  Then,  after  one  is 
almost  weary  of  the  constant,  swelling  repetition,  after 
detail  has  been  added  to  detail,  and  all  the  standpoints  of 
view  have  been  occupied,  he  finally  proceeds  to  sum  up 
the  whole  picture  with  a  breadth  of  expression  and  a 
sweep  of  diction  which  bear  us  away  in  admiration.  One 
can  compare  the  process  in  some  degree  to  the  prepara- 
tion for  the  crises  in  a  Wagnerian  opera.  Famous  among 
these  descriptions  are  the  fish  market  in  "Le  Ventre  de 
Paris."  the  spring  opening  in  the  dry  goods  store  of  "Au 
Bonheur  des  Dames"  (1883),  the  plains  of  Beauce  rolling 
mile  on  mile  to  the  distant  horizon  ("The  Earth"),  the 
Stock  Exchange  in  "Money."  The  power  of  his  driving 
style  makes  material  things  animate,  and  raises  us  at  times 
to  the  notion  of  the  supernatural,  the  deified  forces  of 
natural  religion.  And  with  this  strength  and  vividness 
goes  the  poetical,  the  epic,  where  we  meet  with  intangible 
things,  the  spirits  of  the  invisible.  This  trait  is  espe- 
cially noticeable  in  "La  Debacle."  The  French  army, 
disorganized,  disheartened,  led  hither  and  yon  without 


Zola  193 

reason,  learns  its  doom  from  the  shadows  of  night: 
"Hours  must  have  passed,  the  whole  camp  black,  motion- 
less, seemed  annihilated  under  the  oppression  of  the  vast 
evil  night,  where  was  weighing  down  that  frightful  thing, 
nameless  as  yet.  Quick  starts  came  from  a  lake  of  shade, 
a  sudden  death  rattle  was  heard  in  an  invisible  tent." 

Zola's  entire  strength  between  "L'Assommoir" 
and  "Doctor  Pascal"  was,  to  be  sure,  not  given  to  the 
Rougon-Macquart  series.  Having  bought  a  place  outside 
of  Paris  at  Medan,  he  devoted  considerable  time  to  the 
entertainment  of  guests,  the  criticism  of  the  works  of 
younger  authors.  Out  of  such  meetings  came  at  least 
one  book,  "The  Evenings  of  Medan,"  a  collection  of 
stories,  published  in  1880  by  Zola  and  his  intimates, 
which  contains  Guy  de  Maupassant's  famous  "Boule  de 
Suif."  For  some  years  he  was  also  correspondent  of  a 
Russian  newspaper.  The  articles  written  for  it  were 
afterwards  printed  in  book  form  in  France  under  the 
titles  of  "The  Experimental  Novel"  and  "The  Naturalist 
Novelists."  He  also  tried  the  stage  with  indifferent  suc- 
cess. His  "Assommoir,"  when  dramatized,  became  a 
genuine  melodrama.  Towards  1 888  he  began  to  aspire 
to  a  seat  in  the  French  Academy,  and  for  years  offered 
himself  as  a  candidate  for  nearly  every  vacancy.  But  he 
was  never  elected. 

Early  in  the  eighties  Zola  had  begun  to  tire  of  the 
inevitable  end  of  his  documented  plots,  of  his  human  ani- 
mals who  died  like  the  beasts,  without  hope  of  the  future 
on  earth  or  in  heaven.  Such  a  solution  was  becoming 
more  and  more  unsatisfactory.  It  explained  nothing,  led 
to  nothing.  And  besides,  if  man  ends  with  the  body,  why 
disturb  his  natural  course  with  considerations  of  imma- 


194  Ten  Frenchmen 

terial  things?  In  other  words,  Zola  was  looking  for  a 
religion  which  would  take  the  place  of  the  religion  he  had 
rejected.  Renan  had  found  it  in  science,  Zola  found 
it  in  work.  Work  will  bring  contentment,  if  not  happi- 
ness, he  argues.  Therefore,  work.  This  doctrine  was 
preached  at  the  end  of  "The  Work."  It  became  the 
text  for  the  remainder  of  the  series.  And  soon  there  was 
coupled  with  this  glorification  of  work  the  eulogy  of  life, 
the  life  that  goes  on  from  one  generation  to  another,  the 
life  by  which  the  world  will  eventually  be  redeemed,  by 
each  generation  improving  on  its  predecessor.  It  is  evo- 
lution expressed  in  Zola's  terms. 

After  the  Rougon-Macquart  series  was  finished,  Zola, 
then  but  fifty-three  years  of  age,  undertook  to  formulate 
this  religion.  He  conceived  the  idea  of  substituting  it  for 
decadent  Christianity,  and  with  this  object  in  view,  he 
composed  the  trilogy  of  novels,  known  as  "The  Three 
Cities:"  "Lourdes,"  "Rome,"  and  "Paris."  The  hero 
of  all  three  is  a  priest,  who  in  the  three  successive  volumes 
tries  to  revive  his  waning  faith  by  pilgrimages  to  the  Vir- 
gin's shrine  at  Lourdes,  miraculous  Christianity,  the  Holy 
See  at  Rome,  historical  Christianity,  and  finally  by  philan- 
thropic work  at  Paris,  private,  and  organized  charity.  But 
his  attempt  is  vain.  Christianity  can  no  longer  work 
miracles;  it  has  died  in  its  own  capital;  it  has  failed  in  its 
mission  to  unfortunate  man.  The  dispenser  of  private 
charity  is  swindled;  organized  charity,  fashionable  and 
complicated,  reaches  the  recipient  too  late.  Nor  is  social- 
ism a  substitute  for  Christianity.  Those  who  try  to 
reform  society,  especially  those  who  wish  to  destroy  it, 
the  anarchists,  injure  the  weak  only.  The  strong  escape 
their  avenging  arm.  But  after  all  there  is  a  refuge  from 


Zola  195 

the  ills  of  this  world.  It  is  found  in  work  and  marriage. 
And  the  unfrocked  priest,  united  to  a  calm  and  serious 
helpmeet,  holding  his  child  in  his  arms,  looks  out  from 
his  workshop  on  Montmartre  at  the  close  of  day  on  Paris. 
"Paris  was  glowing,  sown  with  light  by  the  divine  sun, 
rolling  in  its  glory  the  future  harvest  of  truth  and  justice." 
Zola  had  now  come  to  consider  himself  the  adviser  and 
guide  for  the  France  of  the  future,  and  he  was  planning 
a  new  series,  "The  Four  Gospels,"  which  should  preach 
Fecundity,  and  a  return  to  tilling  the  ground,  Labor, 
Truth,  and  Justice,  when  an  unforeseen  event  threw  him 
suddenly  into  the  midst  of  an  unprecedented  political  agi- 
tation. The  scandal  occasioned  by  the  Panama  catas- 
trophe had  hardly  died  away  in  France  before  a  new 
question  arose  affecting  the  honor  of  the  nation,  and 
dividing  it  into  hostile  camps.  Late  in  1894  a  captain  of 
the  army,  Dreyfus,  was  accused  of  selling  military  secrets. 
He  was  publicly  degraded  and  sent  into  solitary  confine- 
ment. Although  the  secrecy  and  haste  with  which  the 
matter  had  been  managed  seemed  suspicious,  the  public 
accepted  the  verdict  without  debate.  But  Dreyfus's 
friends  did  not  allow  the  matter  to  rest.  New  appointees 
in  military  circles  found  evidences  of  fraud.  It  was  clear 
that  injustice  was  being  done  some  one.  But  nevertheless 
the  affair  was  being  successfully  stifled  when  Zola's  atten- 
tion was  attracted  to  the  subject.  An  investigation  led 
him  to  the  conviction  that  Dreyfus  was  an  innocent  man, 
and  that  he  was  being  wronged.  He  determined  to 
reopen  the  case  by  forcing  it  into  the  courts,  and  with 
that  purpose  in  view,  on  January  13,  1898,  he  published 
in  the  daily  newspaper,  DAurore,  his  famous  letter  of 
accusation.  All  principals  and  agents  in  the  trial  and 


196  Ten  Frenchmen 

condemnation  of  Dreyfus  were  cited  by  him  before  the 
bar  of  the  public  conscience.  The  letter  accomplished 
its  purpose.  Zola  was  tried  and  convicted.  He  appealed, 
was  tried  again,  fled  to  England  in  order  to  escape  im- 
prisonment, and  remained  there  a  year.  Meanwhile  new 
forgeries  were  being  foisted  on  the  French  authorities, 
forgeries  which  were  soon  startlingly  revealed  by  confes- 
sions and  suicide.  Dreyfus  was  brought  back  from  his 
exile,  and  Zola  returned  to  Paris. 

His  appearance  in  the  political  arena  had  interfered 
but  little  with  his  literary  work.  He  brought  back  from 
England  the  manuscript  of  "F£condite", "  the  first  of  the 
Four  Gospels,  and  had  it  published  at  once,  in  1899.  In 
1901  "Travail"  ("Labor")  appeared,  and  in  1902 
"Verite"  (Truth").  But  its  author  did  not  live  to  see  it 
in  book  form.  Returning  to  Paris  from  Medan,  late  in 
September  of  that  year,  he  had  a  coal  fire  made  in  order 
to  warm  his  apartment.  Gas  escaped  from  a  defective 
flue,  and  the  next  morning,  September  29,  1902,  he  was 
found  asphyxiated  beyond  resuscitation.  His  attitude  in 
the  Dreyfus  affair,  which  had  suggested  the  plot  of 
"Ve'rite, "  made  of  his  funeral  a  notable  event,  and  in  the 
eyes  of  many  this  act  of  patriotic  courage  has  gone  far  to 
atone  for  the  unwonted  license  of  his  works  of  fiction. 


Zola  197 


Preface  to  the  Rougon-Macquart  Series  in  ""The  Fortune 
of  the  Rougons" 

I  wish  to  explain  how  a  family,  a  small  group  of  beings,  acts 
in  a.given  society,  expanding  so  as  to  give  birth  to  ten,  twenty 
individuals,  who  appear  at  first  glance  to  be  profoundly  unlike,  but 
whom  an  analysis  shows  closely  bound  to  one  another.  Heredity 
has  its  laws,  like  gravitation. 

I  shall  try  to  find  and  follow,  in  solving  the  double  question  of 
temperaments  and  environments,  the  thread  which  mathematically 
leads  from  one  man  to  another.  And  when  I  hold  all  the  threads, 
when  I  have  a  whole  social  group  in  my  hands,  I  will  show  this 
group  at  work,  an  actor  in  an  epoch  of  history,  I  will  create  it 
acting  in  the  complexity  of  its  efforts,  I  will  analyze  at  the  same 
time  the  amount  of  the  will  of  each  of  its  members  and  the  general 
tendency  of  the  whole. 

The  Rougon-Macquarts,  the  group,  the  family  I  propose  to 
study,  has  as  a  characteristic  the  overflowing  appetites,  the  broad 
upheaval  of  our  age,  which  rushes  towards  enjoyment.  Physio- 
logically, they  are  the  slow  succession  of  variations  in  nerves  and 
blood  which  show  themselves  in  a  race  in  consequence  of  a  primary 
organic  lesion;  and  which  determine  in  each  of  the  individuals  of 
that  race,  according  to  his  environment,  the  feelings,  desires, 
passions,  all  the  human  manifestations,  natural  and  instinctive, 
whose  products  take  on  the  conventional  names  of  virtues  and 
vices.  Historically  they  start  with  the  populace,  they  spread  into 
contemporaneous  society  in  its  entirety,  they  rise  to  all  positions 
through  that  essentially  modern  impulse  which  the  lower  classes 
receive  on  their  way  through  the  social  body,  and  thus  they  tell  the 
story  of  the  Second  Empire,  by  means  of  their  individual  dramas, 
from  the  ambuscade  of  the  coup  d'c'tat  to  the  treason  of  Sedan. 

For  three  years  I  had  been  collecting  documents  for  this 
great  work,  and  the  present  volume  was  even  written  when  the 
fall  of  the  Bonapartes,  which  as  an  artist  I  needed,  and  which  I 
always  found  logically  at  the  end  of  the  drama,  without  daring  to 
hope  it  was  so  near,  came  to  give  me  the  terrible  and  necessary 


198  Ten  Frenchmen 

>•• 

solution  to  my  work.  This  work  is  now  complete.  It  moves  in  a 
rounded  circle.  It  becomes  the  picture  of  a  dead  reign,  of  a 
strange  era  of  madness  and  of  shame. 

This  work,  which  will  form  several  episodes,  is  then  in  my 
mind  the  Natural  and  Social  History  of  a  Family  Under  the 
Second  Empire.  And  the  first  episode,  "The  Fortune  of  the 
Rougons,"  should  be  called  by  its  scientific  title,  "The  Origins." 

The  March  of  the  Striking  Miners,  from  "Germinal" 

[The  strikers  on  their  way  to  close  up  mines  which  were  still 
working,  reach  the  house  of  the  company's  superintendent.] 

Twilight  was  already  filling  the  darkening  room  with  gloom,  it 
was  five  o'clock,  when  an  uproar  made  M.  Hennebeau  start,  dazed, 
motionless  as  he  was,  his  elbows  still  buried  in  the  midst  of  his 

papers The  tumult  increased,  a  cry  burst  forth,  a  terrible 

cry,  at  the  moment  he  drew  near  the  window. 

"Bread!    Bread!    Bread!" 

....  The  women  had  appeared,  almost  a  thousand  women, 
with  streaming  hair,  disheveled  by  their  march,  with  rags  which 
showed  their  bare  flesh,  the  nudities  of  women  weary  of  bearing 
children  to  die  of  hunger.  Some  held  their  little  ones  in  their 
arms,  bore  them  aloft,  waved  them,  like  a  flag  of  mourning  and  of 
vengeance.  Others,  younger,  with  Amazonian  breasts,  brandished 
clubs.  While  the  old  women,  frightful,  shrieked  so  fiercely  that 
the  cords  of  their  skinny  necks  seemed  to  be  breaking.  And  the 
men  rolled  down  after  them,  two  thousand  mad  workmen,  .... 
a  compact  mass  which  rolled  along  in  a  single  block,  pressed 
together,  commingled,  to  such  an  extent  that  you  could  not  dis- 
tinguish the  faded  trousers  nor  the  ragged  woolen  jackets,  blotted 
out  in  the  same  ashy  uniformity.  Their  eyes  burned,  you  only 
saw  the  holes  of  their  black  mouths  singing  the  Marseillaise, 
whose  stanzas  were  lost  in  a  confused  roar,  accompanied  by  the 
clacking  of  wooden  shoes  on  the  hard  earth.  Above  their  heads, 
among  the  bristling  iron  bars,  an  axe  stood  up,  carried  high  in  air. 
And  this  solitary  axe,  which  was  like  a  standard  for  the  band,  had 
the  sharp  outline  of  a  guillotine's  knife  in  the  bright  sky. 

f  .  .  .  Anger,  hunger,  those  two  months  of  suffering  and  this 


Zola  199 

mad  rush  over  and  through  the  coal-pits  had  lengthened  the  placid 
faces  of  the  Montsou  miners  into  jaws  like  those  of  wild  beasts. 
At  this  moment  the  sun  was  setting,  its  last  rays  reddened  the 
plain  with  their  dark  purple  blood-stain.  Then  the  road  seemed 
flowing  with  blood,  women  and  men  went  on  galloping,  bloody  as 
slaughtering  butchers. 

It  was  the  red  vision  of  the  revolution  which  would  sweep  all 
away,  beyond  recovery,  on  some  bloody  evening  of  the  century's 
wane.  Yes,  some  evening  the  people,  let  loose,  would  gallop  thus 
unrestrained  along  the  highways.  And  it  would  drip  with  the 
blood  of  the  burghers,  it  would  carry  their  heads  along  with  it,  it 
would  scatter  the  gold  of  their  broken  chests.  The  women  would 
howl,  the  men  would  have  those  wolfish  jaws  open  to  bite.  Yes, 
it  would  be  the  same  rags,  the  same  thunder  of  heavy  shoes,  the 
same  fearful  mob,  with  dirty  skin  and  pestilential  breath,  sweeping 
away  the  old  world  under  their  overwhelming  rush  of  barbarian 
hordes.  Fires  would  flame  up,  not  a  stone  of  the  cities  would  be 
left  standing,  all  would  return  to  wild  woodland  life  after  the 
great  passion,  the  great  revelry,  in  which  the  poor  in  a  night  would 
wear  down  the  women  and  empty  the  cellars  of  the  rich.  There 
would  be  nothing  left,  not  a  sou  of  the  fortunes,  not  a  title  of  rank 
and  office,  until  the  day  when  perhaps  a  new  earth  would  blossom 
forth  again.  Yes,  it  was  these  things  which  were  going  by,  like  a 
force  of  nature 

A  great  cry  arose,  sounded  above  the  Marseillaise. 

"Bread!     Bread!     Bread!" 

The     World1  s    Future  Belongs  to    the     Working   Class 
(From  the  Closing  Pages  of  '•'•Germinal "  ) 

[The  strike  has  failed  through  violence  and  want.  All  the 
miners  have  gone  back  to  work.  Their  leader  takes  leave  of  them 
as  [they  enter  the  pit,  and  goes  away,  consoled  for  the  future  by 
his  thoughts  and  reviving  nature.] 

Etienne  took  the  Joiselle  road  to  the  left.  He  remembered  he 
had  prevented  the  marching  miners  from  attacking  Gaston-Marie. 
Far  away  in  the  bright  sunshine  he  could  see  the  belfrys  of  several 
coal-pits,  Mirou  on  the  right,  Madeleine  and  CrevecuL-ur  side  by 


2OO  Ten  Frenchmen 

side.  The  work  was  everywhere  rumbling  on,  the  strokes  of  the 
miners'  picks  which  he  thought  he  could  hear  in  the  depths  of  the 
earth  were  now  rapping  from  one  end  of  the  plain  to  the  other. 
One  stroke,  and  another  stroke,  and  always  strokes,  under  the 
fields,  the  roads,  the  villages  laughing  in  the  light,  all  the  hidden 
work  of  these  underground  galleys,  so  crushed  down  by  the  enor- 
mous mass  of  rocks  that  you  must  know  they  were  there  under- 
neath you  in  order  to  perceive  their  great  dolorous  sigh.  And 
now  he  was  thinking  how  violence  did  not  perhaps  advance  things. 
Cut  cables,  torn  up  rails,  broken  lamps,  what  a  useless  task  that 
wasl  Forsooth,  they  were  well  worth  the  trouble  of  galloping 
three  thousand  strong  in  a  devastating  band !  Vaguely  he  was 
divining  that  some  day  legal  forms  might  be  more  terrible.  His 
reason  was  ripening;  he  had  sowed  the  wild  oats  of  his  grudges. 
Yes,  Maheude,  with  her  good  sense,  had  well  said  that  this  would 
be  the  thing  to  do :  to  enroll  quietly,  become  acquainted  with  one 
another,  get  together  in  associations,  when  the  law  should  allow. 
Then,  the  day  when  you  felt  your  comrades  close  beside  you, 
when  you  found  yourself,  working  millions,  face  to  face  with  a 
few  thousand  idlers,  seize  the  power,  become  the  masters.  Ah! 
what  an  awakening  of  truth  and  justice!  The  satiated,  unwieldy 
god  would  be  done  to  his  death  at  once,  that  monstrous  idol, 
hidden  in  the  depths  of  his  tabernacle,  in  that  far-off  unknown, 
where  wretches  were  feeding  him  on  their  flesh,  without  having 
ever  seen  him. 

But  Etienne,  leaving  the  Vandame  road,  was  coming  out  on 
the  paved  turnpike.  To  the  right  he  could  see  Montsou  strag- 
gling down  its  hillside,  dying  away  from  sight.  Opposite  were  the 
mines  of  the  Voreux  shaft,  the  accursed  hole  at  which  three  pumps 
were  unceasingly  working;  then  there  were  the  other  pits  on 
the  horizon,  Victory,  Saint  Thomas,  Feutry  Cantel;  while  towards 
the  north  the  lofty  towers  of  the  high  furnaces  and  the  files  of  coke 
ovens  were  smoking  in  the  quiet  air  of  the  morning.  If  he  didn't 
want  to  miss  the  eight  o'clock  train  he  should  hurry,  for  he  still 
had  six  kilometers  to  cover. 

And  under  his  feet  the  deep,  obstinate  strokes  of  the  picks 
continued.  His  comrades  were  all  there,  he  could  hear  them  fol- 
lowing him  at  every  stride.  Wasn't  that  Maheude  under  that  bed 


Zola  20 1 

of  beets,  her  back  bent  double,  and  her  breath  ascending  so 
hoarse,  accompanied  by  the  puff  of  the  ventilator?  To  the  left, 
to  the  right,  farther  on  he  thought  he  recognized  others,  under  the 
grain,  under  the  quickset  hedges,  under  the  young  trees.  Now 
the  sun  of  April  was  streaming  down  in  its  glory  from  the  high 
heaven,  warming  the  earth  in  her  travail.  From  her  maternal  flank 
life  was  gushing  forth,  the  buds  were  bursting  into  leaf,  the  fields 
were  quivering  with  the  shooting  stalks.  On  every  side  the  seeds 
were  swelling,  reaching  forth,  cracking  the  plain,  driven  on  by  a 
need  of  warmth  and  light.  Sap  was  flowing  full  with  whispering 
voices,  the  noise  of  germs  was  rising  in  a  great  kiss.  Again, 
again,  more  and  more  distinctly,  as  though  they  had  come  nearer 
to  the  upper  soil,  his  comrades  were  tapping.  In  the  blazing  rays 
of  the  great  star,  on  that  morning  of  youth,  this  noise  was  filling 
the  countryside.  Men  were  pushing  up  from  the  earth,  a  black, 
avenging  army,  slowly  sprouting  in  the  furrows,  growing  for  the 
harvests  of  the  future  ages,  and  their  germination  was  soon  to 
cleave  the  earth  asunder. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 

£mile  Zola.     R.  H.  Sherard. 
£mile  Zola.     E.  A.  Vizetelly. 

See  also  article  on  Zola  and  Dreyfus  in  Atlantic  Monthly,  Vol. 
LXXXI,  pp.  589  ff. 


CHAPTER  IX 


[JOSEPH  ERNEST  RENAN,  born  at  Treguier,  Brittany,  February  27, 
1823;  educated  in  seminaries  at  Treguier  (1830-1838)  and 
Paris  (1838-1845);  tutor,  1845;  mission  to  Italy,  1850;  assist- 
ant in  the  National  Library,  1851;  mission  to  Palestine,  1860; 
professor  of  Hebrew  at  the  College  de  France,  1862;  elected 
to  the  Academy,  1878;  administrator  of  the  College  de  France, 
1884;  died  at  Paris,  October  2,  1892.  Chief  works:  "Aver- 
roes  and  Averroism,"  1852;  "General  History  and  Compara- 
tive System  of  the  Semitic  Languages,"  1855;  "Life  of 
Jesus,"  1863;  "Philosophical  Dialogues  and  Fragments," 
1876;  "Recollections  of  Childhood  and  Youth,"  1883;  "His- 
tory of  the  People  of  Israel,"  1887-1894.] 

The  scientific  spirit  which  the  nineteenth  century  had 
inherited  from  the  eighteenth  gained  impetus  with  its  pro- 
gressing decades.  It  had  begun  with  the  French  disciples 
of  Locke,  philosophers  and  essayists.  With  them  it 
rarely  passed  the  bounds  of  speculation.  Towards  the 
French  Revolution,  however,  it  seems  to  have  been  on 
the  point  of  extending  itself,  of  leaving  the  domain  of 
theory  for  the  field  of  practical  investigation.  The  physi- 
cal sciences  felt  this  extension,  chemistry,  botany,  zoology, 
physiology.  After  the  turmoil  of  the  Empire  had  settled, 
and  men  were  once  more  free  to  give  themselves  over  to 
the  vocations  of  peace,  concrete  application  of  the  scien- 
tific idea  became  more  and  more  evident.  Under  the 
influence  of  the  great  scholars  of  Germany  this  spirit 
invaded  all  branches  of  learning  and  renewed  their  method 

302 


JOSEPH    ERNEST   RENAN 


Renan  and  Biblical  Criticism  203 

and  vitality.  Literature  also  recognized  its  sway.  We 
have  seen  how  Balzac  based  the  plan  of  "The  Human 
Comedy"  on  the  new  zoological  theories  of  his  day. 
Before  him  even,  in  1827,  the  novelist  Stendhal  had 
lamented  the  utilitarian  tendency  of  the  age.  In  the  pre- 
face to  his  story  of  "Armance, "  he  had  said:  "We  need 
thrifty  management,  stubborn  labor,  solidity,  and  heads 
from  which  every  illusion  is  absent,  in  order  to  turn  the 
steam  engine  to  account.  Such  is  the  difference  between 
the  century  which  ended  in  1789  and  the  one  which  began 
towards  1815."  And  once  again  in  the  story  itself: 
"Since  the  steam  engine  has  become  the  queen  of  the 
world  a  title  is  an  absurdity."  So  Stendhal's  hero,  a 
noble  by  birth,  wishes  he  were  a  chemist.  And  Sten- 
dhal's perception  was  correct.  His  tentative  prophecy  was 
borne  out  by  subsequent  facts.  The  heroes  of  the  nine- 
teenth century  were  chemists,  physicists,  biologists. 

Ernest  Renan,  too,  belongs  among  the  scientists, 
though  it  is  somewhat  difficult  to  assign  him  his  proper 
category.  He  was  in  turn  a  philologist,  a  historian,  a 
critic,  an  author.  He  confesses  to  a  fundamental  faith 
in  mathematics  and  physical  induction,  and  had  he  studied 
the  natural  sciences  thinks  he  might  have  reached  some 
of  Darwin's  conclusions.  There  is,  in  fact,  a  curious 
likeness  between  the  English  scholar  and  the  French, 
engaged  though  they  were  in  wholly  different  occupations. 
It  is  a  likeness  based  on  their  mentality,  the  authority 
which  reason  exercised  over  them  both,  and  their  passion 
for  objective  truth.  Therefore,  by  whatever  name  Renan 
may  be  designated  as  a  writer,  he  was  primarily  a  scien- 
tist. The  story  of  his  life  narrates  to  a  considerable 
extent  the  progress  of  pure  science  in  France. 


1O4  Ten  Frenchmen 

He  was  born  at  Tre"guier,  in  the  old  province  of  Brit- 
tany, on  February  27,  1823.  His  father  was  a  native  of 
the  country,  a  mariner  and  trader.  His  mother  was  of 
Gascon  parentage,  like  D'Artagnan  of  "The  Three 
Musketeers."  This  mixture  of  race  is  used  by  Renan  to 
explain  his  twofold  character — much  as  Hugo  had  made 
his  parentage  responsible  for  his  political  views.  The 
Breton  was  sad,  dreamy,  the  Gascon  merry,  gay.  "This 
complex  origin,"  he  says,  "is,  I  believe,  the  cause,  to  a 
great  extent,  of  my  apparent  contradictions.  I  am  double  ; 
sometimes  one  part  of  me  laughs  when  the  other  is  weep- 
ing. As  there  are  two  men  in  me  there  is  always  reason 
for  one  of  them  to  be  satisfied."  His  father  was  drowned 
when  Ernest  was  but  five  years  old,  and  an  older  sister, 
Henrietta,  became  the  mainstay  of  the  family.  At  the 
age  of  fifteen  she  set  up  a  school  in  Tre"guier,  and  earned 
enough  by  it  to  give  her  brother  a  steady  subsistence. 
Through  her  and  the  local  clergy  he  began  his  education 
in  a  religious  seminary  of  the  town,  an  education  that  was 
curiously  behind  the  times,  dating  perhaps  from  the  seven- 
teenth century,  but  which  gave  him,  notwithstanding,  a 
thorough  drill  in  mathematics.  He  studied  well,  absorbed 
himself  in  dreams  and  books,  took  many  prizes,  and  finally 
was  chosen  to  recruit  a  school  newly  established  in  Paris. 
Thither  he  went  in  September,  1838,  and  there  he  "saw 
things. as  new  to  me  as  if  I  had  been  suddenly  thrown  into 
France  from  Tahiti  or  Timbuctoo." 

The  transfer  from  Treguier  to  Paris  was  vital  in 
Kenan's  experience.  He  had  left  behind  him  simple- 
minded  priests,  whose  lives  were  passed  in  training  the 
middle  and  lower  classes  of  a  devout  population — Brittany 
and  its  neighbor,  the  Vendee,  have  ever  been  the  strong- 


Renan  and  Biblical  Criticism  205 

hold  of  French  Catholicism.  In  his  new  seminary  of 
Saint  Nicholas  du  Chardonnet,  just  intrusted  to  the  bril- 
liant Abbe  Dupanloup,  a  man  of  the  world,  devoted  to  his 
creed  and  party,  but  a  clerical  dilettante  rather  than  a 
profound  theologian,  he  was  to  meet  students  drawn  from 
the  most  promising  of  the  aspirants  to  Church  orders  in 
France,  mingled  with  the  aristocratic  scions  of  the  old 
nobility.  The  school  was  a  fashionable  one.  On  the 
clerical  side  it  was  destined  to  train  future  priests  in  good 
manners  as  well  as  piety.  Renan's  sensitive  soul  was  at 
once  aware  of  the  change.  "My  coming  to  Paris  was  a 
passing  from  one  religion  to  another.  My  Breton  Chris- 
tianity no  more  resembled  the  Christianity  I  found 
here  than  an  old  canvas  hard  as  a  plank  resembles 

percale It  was  the  most  serious  crisis  of  my  life. 

It  is  hard  to  transplant  a  young  Breton.  The  keen  moral 
repulsion  I  felt,  complicated  by  an  entire  change  in  adminis- 
tration and  habits,  gave  me  a  most  terrible  fit  of  home- 
sickness." He  fell  ill  from  the  confinement,  which 
followed  so  close  upon  the  open  life  at  Treguier.  He 
poured  out  his  loneliness  in  tender  letters  to  his  mother. 
But  this  melancholy  of  the  heart  soon  vanished  with 
the  illness  it  had  caused.  Renan's  intellect  was  stimu- 
lated by  the  literary  education  of  the  seminary,  where 
even  the  director  talked  romanticism  and  classicism.  The 
course  in  history,  which  included  selections  from  Michelet, 
fascinated  his  ear  and  brain.  "Thus  the  century  gained 
access  to  me  through  all  the  cracks  of  a  broken  cement. 
I  had  come  to  Paris  morally  formed,  but  as  ignorant  as 
possible.  I  had  everything  to  learn.  I  found  out  with 
astonishment  that  there  were  serious  and  learned  laymen. 
I  saw  that  something  existed  outside  of  antiquity  and  the 


206  Ten  Frenchmen 

Church,  and  especially  that  there  was  a  contemporaneous 
literature  worthy  of  some  attention."  The  result  of  this 
training,  in  which  the  refinement  of  Virgil  held  quite  as 
much  place  as  the  dogmas  of  Scripture,  and  where  knowl- 
edge of  the  world  was  deemed  of  quite  as  much  importance 
as  familiarity  with  Church  history,  altered  the  purity  of 
Kenan's  faith  and  aroused  in  his  soul  a  rival  to  the  Chris- 
tianity which  had  wholly  occupied  it.  Still  he  did  not 
doubt. 

In  1841,  after  three  years'  residence  at  Saint  Nicholas, 
Renan  entered  the  seminary  of  St.  Sulpice  as  a  candidate 
for  priestly  orders.  The  first  two  years  of  this  novitiate 
were  passed  outside  of  Paris,  at  Issy.  There  he  studied 
a  little  natural  history,  which  gave  him  his  first  inkling  of 
genuine  science,  and  a  great  deal  of  philosophy  of  the 
rationalistic  sort.  Always  of  a  shrinking,  meditative  dis- 
position Renan  now  gave  himself  almost  bodily  to  books, 
reading  the  philosophers,  especially  Descartes,  his  disciple 
Malebranche,  Locke,  Leibnitz.  In  this  reading  he  lost 
all  faith  in  abstract  metaphysics:  "Positive  science  re- 
mained the  sole  source  of  truth  for  me.  The  scientific 
spirit  was  the  basis  of  my  nature."  What  he  learned  of 
physical  science  showed  him  the  insufficiency  of  spiritual 
doctrines:  "An  eternal  fieri,  an  endless  metamorphosis, 
seemed  to  me  the  law  of  the  world."  And  yet  he  still 
was  a  believing  Christian.  The  example  of  others,  par- 
ticularly of  Malebranche,  who  made  the  physical  world  an 
attribute  of  God,  known  to  the  mind  only  through  God  in 
whom  all  things  are,  held  him  back  from  unbelief.  But 
all  at  once  the  logical  consequences  of  these  views  came 
to  light.  It  was  the  custom  to  train  the  future  priests  in 
theological  argument.  This  was  an  exercise  Renan  thor- 


Renan  and  Biblical  Criticism  207 

oughly  enjoyed.  His  reasoning  ability  easily  got  the 
better  of  his  adversaries.  Church  dogmas  when  assailed 
by  him  found  but  a  moderate  defense.  One  evening, 
after  such  a  debate,  he  was  reproached  for  his  fondness 
for  study  by  one  of  his  instructors.  Research  was  use- 
less, he  was  told:  "Everything  essential  has  been  found 
out.  Science  does  not  save  souls.  And  becoming  more 
and  more  excited,  he  exclaimed  to  me,  with  an  accent  full 
of  passion,  'You  are  not  a  Christian!'  "  But  this  judg- 
ment, though  a  true  one,  had  for  the  time  being  no  other 
result  than  Kenan's  sincere  distress. 

After  Issy  it  was  the  turn  of  the  seminary  in  Paris, 
where  the  study  of  Hebrew  was  begun.  The  classes  were 
conducted  by  a  scholar  well  versed  in  German  exegesis, 
and  unaffected  by  its  heterodoxy.  This  man  found  in 
Renan  a  most  enthusiastic  pupil.  He  taught  him  the 
other  Semitic  languages  also,  and  put  his  library  at  his 
disposal.  The  lectures  at  the  College  de  France  were 
also  open.  Renan  at  once  showed  great  aptitude  for 
philology.  The  world  of  science  revealed  itself  to  him. 
He  learned  German  with  the  intention  of  pushing  his  new 
studies  further.  It  was  another  epoch  in  his  life:  "The 
peculiar  intellectuality  of  Germany  at  the  end  of  the  last 
century  and  in  the  first  half  of  this  [nineteenth]  made  a 
vivid  impression  on  me.  I  thought  I  was  entering  a 
temple.  That  was  what  I  was  seeking,  the  reconcilia- 
tion of  a  highly  religious  with  the  critical  spirit."  But 
he  could  not  justify  this  reconciliation  to  himself.  He 
was  too  rigorously  scientific.  If  the  Bible  was  divine  it 
must  be  infallible  everywhere.  But  Renan  saw  in  the 
Bible  contradictions,  blunders,  errors,  and  his  logic  forced 
him  to  unbelief  in  the  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures.  He 


208  Ten  Frenchmen 

had  learned  from  his  favorite  philosopher,  Malebranche, 
to  subordinate  everything  to  reason,  and  that  "the  duty  of 
man  is  to  put  himself  before  the  truth,"  and  let  himself 
follow  wherever  truth  may  lead.  He  went  this  way  and 
soon  found  his  reason  pitted  against  his  faith.  The  con- 
sequences, for  his  scientific  temperament,  were  inevitable. 
He  renounced  the  priesthood. 

It  was  during  the  summer  vacation  of  1845,  spent  in 
Brittany,  that  he  finally  decided  on  this  momentous  course. 
His  sister,  whose  sympathy  had  never  failed  him  in  all  his 
experiences  and  emotions,  came  once  more  to  his  support 
with  an  offer  to  defray  his  expenses  for  further  independ- 
ent study  at  Paris.  His  masters  of  St.  Sulpice  were  sur- 
prised at  the  revelation  of  his  mind,  but  agreed  with  him 
in  his  purpose.  His  mother  was  grieved,  for  she  could 
not  understand  his  feelings.  Her  sorrow  was  her  son's 
severest  trial.  After  one  or  two  experiments  at  a  liveli- 
hood he  settled  down  as  a  tutor  in  a  private  school  attached 
to  one  of  the  Paris  lycees.  Here  again  he  was  to  meet 
with  a  new  inspiration.  Among  the  pupils  of  the  school 
was  Marcellin  Berthelot,  the  future  chemist,  but  four  years 
younger  than  Renan.  A  close  and  lifelong  friendship 
joined  the  two  together  from  the  very  outset.  Berthelot, 
plunged  in  the  study  of  natural  sciences  with  all  the  ardor 
of  a  new  disciple,  overflowed  with  the  spirit  of  scientific 
investigation,  which  sought  for  truth  through  physical 
induction.  Renan  was  no  less  scientific  in  his  pursuit  of 
linguistic  verities.  Each  reacted  on  the  other,  and  but  a 
few  months  were  needed  to  finish  the  destruction  of  every- 
thing in  their  minds  which  implied  faith.  "The  affirma- 
tion that  everything  in  the  world  is  of  one  and  the  same 
color,  that  there  is  nothing  supernatural  or  revealed  by  a 


Renan  and  Biblical  Criticism  209 

special  revelation,  forced  itself  on  our  minds  in  an  abso- 
lute fashion.  The  clear  scientific  view  of  a  universe, 
where  there  is  no  free  will  at  work  in  any  appreciable 
manner  which  is  superior  to  the  will  of  man,  became, 
with  the  first  months  of  1846,  an  immovable  anchor  for 
us  which  has  never  dragged." 

But  the  strength  of  Kenan's  previous  training  was 
equally  irresistible.  Had  he  never  entered  St.  Sulpice, 
had  he  given  himself  over  to  the  study  of  natural 
science  on  leaving  Issy,  he  thinks  he  might  have  made  a 
reputation  of  like  kind  to  Darwin's.  But  St.  Sulpice  had 
interested  him  in  the  history  of  the  Christian  religion. 
"The  studies  I  had  begun  at  the  seminary  had  so  absorbed 
me  that  I  thought  of  nothing  else  than  to  take  them  up 
again.  One  occupation  only  seemed  worthy  to  me  of 
filling  up  my  life;  it  was  the  continuation  of  my  critical 
researches  on  Christianity  through  the  wider  means  which 
were  placed  at  my  disposal  by  secular  learning."  He 
was  aware  that  his  criticism  of  texts  reflected  his  former 
belief.  At  first  conservative  it  always  remained  Catholic, 
literary,  temperate,  in  contradistinction  to  the  Protestant 
criticism  of  the  German  universities.  And  for  these 
qualities,  and  others  of  character  and  manner,  he  was 
ever  grateful  to  his  teachers  of  St.  Sulpice. 

With  his  change  of  vocation  Renan  had  left  his  old 
friends.  The  years  found  him  new  ones.  The  distin- 
guished scholars  of  the  capital  soon  recognized  his  talent. 
In  1847  he  competed  for  the  Volney  Prize  for  the  best 
philological  essay,  and  won  it  with  the  embryo  of  his 
future  history  of  the  Semitic  languages.  In  1848  he  won 
another  prize  for  an  essay  on  Greek,  and  contributed  to 
the  periodical  La  Liberte  de  Penser,  founded  in  that  year, 


2io  Ten  Frenchmen 

an  article  on  "The  Origin  of  Languages"  which  he  after- 
ward revised  and  published  in  book  form  (1858).  He 
also  began  a  treatise  to  be  called  "The  Future  of 
Science,"  which  did  not  see  the  light  till  1890,  but  which 
furnished  a  chapter  to  La  Liberie  de  Penser,  in  1849. 
More  important  perhaps  for  his  career  was  a  monograph 
on  "The  Critical  Historians  of  Jesus,"  published  in  the 
same  periodical,  severely  attacking  Strauss 's  "Life  of 
Jesus,"  and  foreshadowing  Kenan's  own  famous  biog- 
raphy. Other  literary  work  and  a  short  service  as  substi- 
tute professor  of  philosophy  at  the  Versailles  lyce"e 
increased  his  reputation  in  scientific  circles.  In  1850 
he  was  given  a  commission  to  explore  in  behalf  of  the 
government  the  libraries  of  Italy.  His  particular  duty 
was  to  report  on  any  rare  Syriac  and  Arabic  manuscripts 
he  might  find  or  documents  relating  to  mediaeval  French 
literature. 

This  trip  to  Italy,  while  unimportant  in  the  history  of 
Kenan's  thought,  did  not  remain  without  influence  on  his 
literary  expression.  Italian  art  and  civilization  appealed 
to  his  naturally  refined  temperament  and  increased  the 
value  he  had  always  set  on  outward  form  and  style.  The 
information  gathered  during  the  mission  he  also  turned  to 
good  use.  In  order  to  attain  the  degree  of  Doctor  of 
Letters  in  France,  it  is  necessary  to  submit  two  disserta- 
tions, one  in  Latin  and  one  in  French.  In  1852  Kenan 
came  forward  as  a  candidate  equipped  with  the  proper 
literary  baggage.  His  French  dissertation,  the  volume 
published  under  the  title  of  "Averroes  and  Averroism, "  a 
treatise  on  mediaeval  Moslem  philosophy  in  its  relations 
with  the  scholasticism  of  Europe,  while  abounding  in 
facts  and  most  learned  in  conception,  was  so  simply  and 


Renan  and  Biblical  Criticism  211 

pleasantly  written  that  it  appealed  to  the  literary  world, 
as  well  as  to  the  world  of  science.  It  extended  its  author's 
reputation  as  a  scholar  across  the  boundaries  of  France. 

The  Revolution  of  1848  could  not  fail  to  interest  a 
mind  so  alert  and  open  to  impressions  as  Kenan's.  He 
hailed  it  much  as  the  republicans  of  1789  had  welcomed 
the  dawn  of  the  French  Revolution.  The  people  at  last 
were  to  come  into  the  possession  of  their  own.  Democ- 
racy was  to  triumph  under  the  leadership  of  reason. 
Science  was  to  inculcate  truths  which  should  lead  all 
classes  to  a  higher  moral  and  mental  plane,  while  manual 
labor  and  culture  would  go  hand  in  hand.  These  were 
the  utterances  of  Renan  in  the  first  enthusiasm  of  his  new- 
found ideal.  Wider  experience  with  men  and  acquaint- 
ance with  other  peoples  of  different  ethical  views  were 
afterwards  to  change  his  position  regarding  the  best  prac- 
tical state,  if  not  to  modify  his  governmental  ideal.  To 
him  as  to  many  others  of  the  best  minds  in  France  the 
coup  d'etat  of  December  2,  1851,  was  to  prove  a  bitter 
grief. 

In  1851  his  subsistence  was  assured  by  an  appointment 
to  the  department  of  Oriental  manuscripts  at  the  National 
Library.  His  sister  Henrietta,  who  had  been  teaching 
abroad,  had  returned  to  France  the  year  before,  and  was 
now  keeping  house  for  her  brother  in  the  Rue  du  Val  de 
Grace.  The  light  duties  required  of  him  at  the  library 
left  him  abundant  leisure  for  private  work,  and  the  results 
soon  appeared  in  his  dissertations  already  noticed,  and  his 
first  great  work,  the  "General  History  and  Comparative 
System  of  the  Semitic  Languages,"  which  appeared  in 
1855,  an  expansion  of  the  Volney  prize  essay  of  1847. 
Here  Renan  buttresses  his  illuminating  theory  of  the 


212  Ten  Frenchmen 

fundamental  difference  between  the  Aryan  and  Semitic 
races,  a  difference  not  of  language  only,  he  claims,  but 
also  of  religion.  The  peoples  of  the  former  race  were 
polytheists,  worshiping  the  powers  of  nature.  The 
Semitic  peoples  were  monotheists.  They  created  Juda- 
ism, Christianity,  and  Mohammedanism,  and  forced  these 
last  two  creeds  on  the  Aryans.  The  Institute  at  once 
crowned  this  book  and  elected  him  to  the  Academy  of 
Inscriptions  and  Belles  Lettres.  In  the  same  year  of  this 
election  (1856)  he  married  the  niece  of  Ary  Scheffer,  the 
distinguished  painter,  through  whose  personality  and 
surroundings  the  poetic  side  of  Kenan's  temperament, 
already  aroused  by  his  Italian  mission,  was  further  devel- 
oped. A  constant  contributor  to  the  Journal  des  De'bats 
and  the  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes,  with  articles  and  essays 
on  all  kinds  of  subjects,  religious,  historical,  philological, 
his  style  had  become  perfected  until  it  combined  ease, 
simplicity,  and  grace  with  unusual  flexibility  of  expres- 
sion. Many  of  these  essays  were  published  in  book  form, 
in  his  "Studies  of  Religious  History"  (1857),  and  his 
"Ethical  and  Critical  Essays"  (1859).  In  1858  he 
revised  his  journalistic  article  of  ten  years  previous,  and 
published  it  under  the  title  "On  the  Origin  of  Language." 
In  1859  a  translation  of  the  book  of  Job  saw  the  light, 
together  with  a  discussion  of  its  period  and  spirit.  In 
1860  the  Song  of  Solomon  was  edited,  arranged  as  a  pas- 
toral drama. 

This  year  of  i860  was  a  notable  one  in  Kenan's  career. 
Through  the  mediation  of  mutual  friends  he  received  a 
commission  from  the  government  to  explore  the  territory 
once  known  as  Phoenicia,  collect  its  inscriptions,  and 
investigate  its  monuments.  It  was  October  when  he 


Renan  and  Biblical  Criticism  213 

reached  Beirut.  He  visited  Palestine,  saw  the  land  once 
trod  by  the  Savior's  feet,  looked  on  the  hills  and  valleys, 
lakes  and  rivers,  which  had  listened  to  his  voice,  and  at 
last  began  the  long-cherished  project  of  telling  the  story 
of  his  life.  Hardly  had  the  first  draft  of  this  volume  been 
written  when  he  and  his  sister,  who  was  with  him,  were 
stricken  down  with  fever.  She  died  in  September,  1861. 
He  lived  to  profit  by  her  devotion  and  perpetuate  his 
gratitude  in  a  most  tender  and  beautiful  memorial,  which 
was  first  published  after  his  death.  To  her  was  dedicated 
also  the  "Life  of  Jesus,"  that  appeared  in  1863.  Her 
influence  on  him  had  been  early  exerted,  and  proved 
lasting. 

Election  to  a  professorship  followed  close  upon  Kenan's 
return  to  Paris.  For  some  years  the  chair  of  Hebrew 
had  been  vacant  at  the  College  de  France.  It  had  been 
a  post  long  coveted  by  Renan,  ever  since  his  attendance 
on  courses  there,  while  a  student  at  St.  Sulpice.  When 
the  government  asked  the  nominating  faculties  of  the 
College  and  Institute  for  candidates,  they  both  placed 
Renan  first  on  the  list.  In  January,  1862,  he  was  ap- 
pointed. The  government  had  taken  a  hazardous  step. 
Renan's  contributions  to  general  literature,  and  his  ver- 
sions of  Job  and  the  Song  of  Solomon,  had  made  his  name 
and  career  familiar  to  all  the  educated  public.  And  it 
was  a  career  which  was  bound  to  meet  with  the  disap- 
proval of  the  orthodox  in  religion,  especially  of  the  digni- 
taries of  the  Church,  one  of  the  mainstays  of  the  Second 
Empire.  Caution,  therefore,  was  advisable  for  the  new 
incumbent,  who  in  a  certain  sense  was  a  representative  of 
the  government  and  responsible  for  his  words  to  the  ruling 
powers  who  had  given  him  his  office.  That  caution  was 


214  Ten  Frenchmen 

not  exercised.  His  opening  lecture  in  February  was 
delivered  before  a  large  audience.  He  took  for  his  sub- 
ject his  theory  of  the  religious  difference  between  the 
polytheistic  Aryans  and  the  monotheistic  Semites,  and  the 
great  debt  owed  by  the  former  to  the  latter.  They  might 
even  have  forced  Judaism  on  the  western  world,  he  said, 
had  not  Judaism  been  re-formed  into  Christianity  at  the 
critical  moment  by  one  who  had  reached  the  greatest 
religious  height  ever  attained  by  man,  so  great  that  Renan . 
would  not  "wish  to  contradict  those  ....  who  call  him 
God."  Later  came  the  Moslem  creed,  hostile  to  science 
and  civilization,  which  must  disappear  before  the  new 
religion  Europe  was  to  proclaim,  the  religion  of  science, 
which  advocates  liberty  and  human  rights.  At  the  close 
of  this  address  the  lecturer  was  led  home  in  triumph  by 
his  sympathizers.  But  the  clericals,  aroused  by  the 
denial  of  the  deity  of  Christ,  and  also  by  a  passage  which 
foretold  of  the  separation  of  Church  and  State,  carried 
their  cause  to  the  Tuileries,  and  Kenan's  course  of  lec- 
tures was  quickly  suspended.  However,  he  continued  to 
give  instruction  at  his  house  to  all  students  who  desired  it. 
As  may  be  supposed,  the  publication  of  the  "Life  of 
Jesus,"  a  year  afterwards,  did  nothing  to  allay  the  hostil- 
ity excited  by  this  lecture.  For  it  was  a  decided  affirma- 
tion of  the  statement  already  made  that  Christ  was  the 
greatest  of  men,  the  man  nearest  God,  and  yet  a  man. 
The  book  is  the  consummation  of  a  purpose  to  reconsti- 
tute the  life  of  this  man,  in  his  surroundings,  his  teach- 
ings, and  his  ways.  The  result  is  little  short  of  wonderful. 
Through  his  visit  to  the  places  mentioned  in  the  Gospels, 
his  faculty  of  calling  up  before  himself  the  scenes  and 
people  of  Judea  and  Galilee,  and  his  appreciation  of  the 


Renan  and  Biblical  Criticism  215 

character  of  Christ's  mission  and  its  historical  significance, 
Renan  has  succeeded  in  placing  before  us  the  living, 
breathing  personality  of  the  Great  Teacher.  The  founder 
of  Christianity  passes  from  the  realm  of  the  abstract  into 
the  domain  of  the  real,  the  tangible. 

In  the  "Life  of  Jesus"  Renan  combines  those  qualities 
which  have  made  him  one  of  the  most  stimulating  of  his- 
torians. We  see  in  its  pages  a  profound  erudition 
which  searches  into  meanings  of  the  texts  which  contain 
the  historical  material — in  this  case  the  Gospels,  the  Old 
Testament  prophecies,  Jewish  records,  early  Christian 
traditions,  and  the  like  —  a  logical  alertness  which 
enables  him  to  induce  conclusions  of  actual  scientific 
value,  an  imagination  which,  tempered  by  criticism,  fills 
up  the  gaps  in  his  narratives,  paints  portraits,  interprets 
symbols,  and  a  style,  simple,  expressive,  luminous. 
There  is  little  wonder  that  such  a  subject,  treated  by  such 
a  man,  should  have  produced  a  work  of  unusual  power 
and  steadily  widening  influence.  The  demand  for  the 
"Life  of  Jesus"  was  immediate  and  great.  It  pleased, 
to  be  sure,  neither  the  strictly  orthodox  nor  the  skeptics, 
yet  it  gave  light  to  many  believers  who  sought  for  a  more 
real  foundation  for  their  faith,  and  by  its  reverential 
reasonableness  held  many  back  from  the  aridity  of 
agnosticism. 

These  results,  however,  which  obtained  with  the  moder- 
ate, were  only  an  offense  to  the  extremists  of  either 
party.  In  1864  the  Church  authorities  procured  Renan's 
dismissal  from  his  professorship  and  he  was  left  dependent 
on  his  own  resources.  These  had  profited  by  the  popu- 
larity of  his  last  volume,  and  were  sufficient  to  enable  him 
to  continue  his  scientific  pursuits.  His  intellectual  activ- 


216  Ten  Frenchmen 

ity  was  not  in  the  least  lessened,  and  an  article  which  soon 
appeared  in  the  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes  on  the  ultimate 
reign  of  science  through  progressive  evolution,  a  reign  in 
which  the  good  and  true  will  forever  annihilate  the  evil 
and  false,  proved  to  many  of  his  countrymen  a  new  incen- 
tive to  virtue  and  self-sacrifice. 

The  "Life  of  Jesus"  was  the  first  part  of  a  general 
treatise  on  the  origins  of  Christianity,  which  Renan  now 
prepared  to  continue.  As  he  had  visited  Palestine  in  view 
of  his  initial  volume  he  now  followed  the  journeyings  of 
the  apostles  over  the  Mediterranean.  The  results  of  this 
journey,  added  to  his  usual  scientific  research  and  text 
criticism — this  time  on  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  and  St. 
Paul's  Epistles — appeared  in  1866  in  "The  Apostles," 
and  in  1869  in  "St.  Paul."  The  historical  value  of  both 
works  does  not  fall  beneath  the  worth  of  their  predeces- 
sors in  the  series,  and  Kenan's  interpretation  given  to  the 
services  of  St.  Paul  in  rescuing  the  new  religion  from  the 
constraints  of  Judaism  constitutes  an  important  chapter  in 
the  history  of  the  early  Church. 

At  the  same  time  other  interests  were  appealing  to 
Renan.  The  practical  bent  of  his  disposition  had  long 
before  drawn  his  attention  to  the  study  of  political  and 
social  conditions.  In  a  collection  of  articles  published  in 
1868  under  the  title  of  "Questions  of  the  Day"  he  goes 
so  far  as  to  discuss  the  state  of  public  affairs  in  France. 
He  opposes  the  temporal  power  of  the  pope,  supported  at 
that  time  by  French  bayonets,  and  criticizes  the  foreign 
policy  of  the  government.  In  1869  he  offered  himself  as 
a  candidate  for  the  Corps  Legislatif  on  a  platform  of 
peace  and  progress,  freedom  of  the  press  and  a  continua- 
tion of  the  Empire.  He  was  defeated  by  both  a  republi- 


Renan  and  Biblical  Criticism  217 

can  and  a  conservative  imperialist,  but  continued  to  advocate 
a  constitutional  monarchy.  He  was  strongly  opposed  to 
the  war  with  Prussia.  He  knew  the  Germans  were 
superior  to  the  French  in  military  affairs  as  well  as  in 
science,  and  besides  he  wished  to  cultivate  a  national 
friendship  with  the  people  whose  scholarship  had  formed 
so  large  a  part  of  his  own  inspiration. 

The  Commune  he  detested.  While  it  was  sinking  in 
blood,  in  May,  1 87 1,  he  penned  at  Versailles  the  larger 
part  of  his  "Philosophical  Dialogues  and  Fragments." 
During  the  short  period  of  the  Franco- Prussian  War  he 
had  been  engaged  in  a  patriotic  controversy  with  his 
former  idol,  Strauss,  and  after  the  treaty  of  peace  was 
signed,  in  1871,  he  appealed  to  France  to  profit  by  her 
misfortunes  and  rise  to  better  things.  His  ideal  state 
now  was  a  king  upheld  by  a  devoted  aristocracy,  and 
aided  by  men  of  learning.  For  universal  suffrage,  the 
suffrage  of  the  plebiscites,  he  had  learned  to  have  little 
regard.  Socialistic  experiments,  accompanied  as  they  had 
been  by  violence  and  civil  strife,  he  would  guard  against 
by  a  series  of  colonizing  expeditions  which  should  employ 
this  dangerous  energy  in  the  useful  task  of  subjecting 
inferior  races  to  the  rule  of  the  higher. 

In  1873  Renan  continued  his  history  of  the  origins  of 
Christianity  with  a  fourth  volume,  "The  Antichrist," 
which  dealt  with  the  visit  of  St.  Paul  to  Rome,  Nero's 
persecution  of  the  Christians,  the  belief  that  the  emperor 
had  not  died,  but  would  soon  return  from  the  East  to 
harry  them  again — the  Antichrist  of  St.  John's  Reve- 
lation— and  finally  the  destruction  of  the  Temple  at 
Jerusalem,  the  last  tie  which  bound  Christianity  back  to 
Judaism.  In  1877  a  fifth  volume  appeared,  on  the  com- 


2i  8  Ten  Frenchmen 

position  of  the  Gospels  by  the  converts  of  the  apostles, 
"The  Gospels  and  the  Second  Generation  of  Christians," 
and  in  1879  a  sixth,  "The  Christian  Church,"  a  history 
of  the  heresies  following  the  composition  of  the  Gospel 
according  to  St.  John  and  of  the  persecutions  under  the 
Antonines.  In  the  meantime,  in  1875,  ne  had  recruited 
his  wavering  health  by  a  trip  to  Sicily,  had  published  (in 
1 876)  his  "Dialogues,"  written  during  the  Commune,  and 
composed  a  philosophical  drama  on  democracy  protecting 
science  ("Caliban,"  1878).  The  "Dialogues"  once  more 
affirmed  his  belief  in  evolution,  a  progress  in  which  physics 
and  chemistry  would  be  leading  factors,  and  in  the  resur- 
rection of  all  consciences  that  had  ever  existed  at  the  end 
of  the  world.  There  runs,  however,  through  all  these 
writings  an  ever- widening  vein  of  pessimism.  Is  the  final 
goal  of  nature  really  good,  after  all?  Is  it  worth  while 
to  try  to  elevate  the  mass  of  mankind?  Much  of  this  dis- 
couragement was  no  doubt  due  to  the  Franco-Prussian 
War,  which  transformed  in  Kenan's  mind  the  intellectual 
German  into  a  brutal  warrior,  and  to  the  Commune,  which 
had  defiled  by  its  very  touch  the  principles  of  liberty, 
equality,  and  fraternity,  it  had  so  loudly  advocated. 

In  1880  Renan  crossed  the  Channel  for  the  purpose  of 
delivering  the  annual  lectures  of  the  Hibbert  Foundation. 
His  subject  was  taken  from  the  pages  of  the  "Origins  of 
Christianity."  Soon  after  his  return  to  France  he  issued 
the  concluding  volume  of  this  series,  "Marcus  Aurelius" 
(1882),  in  which  the  reforms  and  the  philosophy  of  the 
great  emperor,  his  persecution  of  the  Christians,  the  final 
constitution  of  the  Church  on  the  basis  of  the  authority 
of  the  bishops,  and  the  history  of  that  Church  in  outline, 
are  discussed,  together  with  a  prophecy  that  the  Church 


Renan  and  Biblical  Criticism  219 

will  become  independent  of  the  state,  and  finally  unite  its 
most  progressive  children  with  liberal  Protestants  and 
Jews  in  a  common,  pure,  and  true  religion.  Though  his 
years  were  increasing,  and  his  health  waning,  evidences 
of  his  literary  and  scholarly  activity  became  greater  and 
greater.  In  1883,  at  the  age  of  sixty,  he  wrote  the  story 
of  his  early  life  up  to  the  years  which  followed  his  separa- 
tion from  the  Church  ("Recollections  of  Childhood  and 
Youth"),  an  autobiography  where  he  shows  the  reasons 
for  his  change  of  faith.  In  1878  he  had  been  elected  to 
the  French  Academy,  and  during  the  eighties  was  more 
than  once  called  upon  to  welcome  still  younger  members. 
Two  of  his  discourses  on  these  occasions  are  especially 
noteworthy,  one  in  1882,  greeting  Pasteur,  whose  life 
devotion  to  science  so  much  resembled  his  own,  and  one 
in  1885,  congratulating  De  Lesseps  on  the  achievement 
of  the  Suez  Canal — which,  however,  he  did  not  admit  to 
be  a  work  of  peace,  but  rather  a  fresh  cause  for  the  rivalry 
of  nations,  who  would  make  it  their  objective  point  in  case 
of  war.  He  continued  his  philosophical  dramas,  in  an 
Epicurean  spirit,  it  must  be  admitted,  which  disconcerted 
the  more  serious  of  his  admirers,  translated  the  pessimistic 
book  of  Ecclesiastes,  published  new  collections  of  essays, 
and  delivered  addresses,  official  and  private.  In  1884  he 
was  elected  administrator  of  the  College  de  France,  and 
took  up  his  residence  in  that  building,  where  his  recep- 
tions gathered  together  the  artists  and  scholars  of  the 
French  capital.  With  a  revival  of  interest  in  his  native 
soil  he  attended  a  celebration  held  the  same  year  in  his 
honor  at  Tr£guier,  and  soon  afterwards  purchased  a  sum- 
mer residence  on  the  coast  of  Brittany. 

In  this  secluded  spot,  far  away  from  the  bustle  of  Paris, 


220  Ten  Frenchmen 

he  found  leisure  to  plan  the  great  work  of  his  closing  days, 
the  "History  of  the  People  of  Israel,"  which  appeared  in 
five  volumes,  from  1887  to  1894.  The  undertaking  was  a 
greater  one  than  his  "Origins  of  Christianity,"  for  it 
covered  the  whole  period  comprised  by  the  books  of  the 
Old  Testament  and  their  sequels  down  to  the  birth  of 
Christ.  But  German  criticism  proved  a  more  efficient  aid 
here  than  in  the  former  work,  and  Renan  brought  to  it  the 
same  marvelous  erudition,  the  same  philosophical  argu- 
mentation, and  the  same  wealth  of  imagination  which  had 
characterized  the  history  of  the  early  Church.  He  affirms 
again  the  monotheistic  religion  of  the  Semites  as  opposed 
to  the  polytheistic  worship  of  their  Aryan  neighbors, 
dwells  on  the  strife  which  existed  for  centuries  between 
the  adherents  of  the  Elohim,  the  myriad  manifestations 
of  the  one  divine  presence,  a  universal  deity,  and  the 
partisans  of  Jehovah,  the  national  deity  of  Israel,  whose 
attributes  encouraged  self-seeking,  race  prejudice,  war 
with  the  foreigner,  and  abhorrence  of  his  contact.  It  was 
two  talented  authors,  representatives  of  each  of  these 
factions,  who,  in  the  ninth  century  before  Christ,  united 
the  legends  of  the  people  with  the  traditions  of  their  con- 
quests into  separate  narratives  tinged  with  their  partisan- 
ship, and  it  is  their  accounts,  combined  with  each  other 
under  the  reign  of  Hezekiah,  two  centuries  later,  which 
form  the  greater  part  of  Old  Testament  history. 

But  these  records  would  have  proved  of  little  im- 
portance and  would  have  passed  into  merited  oblivion 
had  they  not  been  supplemented  by  the  utterances  of 
a  new  school  of  prophets  which  appeared  near  the  be- 
ginning of  the  eighth  century  with  the  prophet  Amos. 
Amos  proclaims  Jehovah  a  universal  God,  not  a  tribal, 


Renan  and  Biblical  Criticism  221 

Hebrew  deity,  a  God  who  created  the  world  and  guides 
it,  whose  attributes  are  justice  and  mercy.  Subse- 
quent reactions  of  national  feeling  reduced  the  bound- 
aries of  this  deity's  beneficence,  but  the  spirit  of  the 
prophets  survived  among  the  few,  breaking  out  now 
and  again,  and  culminating  in  the  world-wide  morality  and 
religion  of  the  last  of  their  succession,  the  Messiah,  the 
Prince  of  Peace.  With  him  narrow  Judaism  was  finally 
merged  in  the  broader  Christianity,  which  in  turn  will 
fade  away  before  its  descendant,  Socialism.  Liberty  of 
the  individual,  which  Jesus  proclaimed,  will  remain,  an 
acquired  good,  but  its  continuance  will  be  bought  by 
concessions  granted  by  it  to  the  rights  of  the  community. 
In  the  future  political  and  national  questions  will  occupy 
less  and  less  attention,  social  questions  more  and  more. 

It  is  significant  of  Renan's  real  nature  that  his  great 
works  end  with  a  forecast  of  humanity's  future.  Like  the 
great  prophets  of  Israel,  whom  he  so  admired,  his  soul 
was  only  temporarily  bowed  down  by  sorrow  and  dis- 
couragement. In  the  preface  to  his  "Recollections  of 
Childhood  and  Youth"  he  had  regretfully  admitted  the 
advent  of  the  rule  of  the  multitude,  the  "Americaniza- 
tion," as  he  termed  it,  of  the  nations,  but  universal 
vulgarity  once  allowed  he  found  in  it  a  hope  for  the  con- 
tinuance of  scientific  investigation,  of  research  after  the 
truth,  under  better  conditions  than  in  the  more  aristo- 
cratic administrations  of  the  past.  In  the  body  of  the 
book,  indeed,  he  had  rather  disclaimed  any  liberal  views 
of  government:  "I  would  willingly  resign  myself,"  he 
says,  "if  the  occasion  should  offer  (and  I  must  say  that  it 
grows  more  and  more  distant  each  day),  to  serve  for  the 
greater  benefit  of  poor  humanity,  so  wrecked  at  the  pres- 


222  Ten  Frenchmen 

ent  time,  a  tyrant  who  would  be  philanthropic,  learned, 
intelligent,  and  liberal."  And  in  the  last  year  of  his 
life,  in  an  essay  on  God  and  the  visible  universe,  while 
reaffirming  that  nothing  within  our  finite  comprehension 
reveals  the  intervention  of  a  superior  power  into  nature, 
he  admits  that  there  may  be  an  infinite  universe  to  which 
ours  is  subordinated,  and  in  which  the  intervention  of  a 
God  may  be  the  rule.  The  "kingdom  of  God,"  foretold 
by  Christianity,  may  become  some  day  a  reality,  and  the 
world  now  ruled  by  blind  unconsciousness  may  in  the 
future  be  governed  by  a  consciousness  which  is  supremely 
good  and  supremely  just.  Then  wrong  will  be  suppressed, 
and  "every  tear  be  dried.  'And  God  shall  wipe  away  all 
tears  from  their  eyes.'  '  Thus  with  hope  for  a  future 
state  in  which  he  could  not  rightly  believe,  amid  severe 
physical  pains,  but  preserving  the  lucidity  of  his  mental 
faculties  to  the  last,  Renan  passed  away  in  the  College  de 
France  on  October  2,  1892.  A  state  funeral  was  accorded 
his  remains,  which  were  finally  deposited  in  the  Pantheon. 

SELECTIONS   FROM   THE   WRITINGS   OF   RENAN 

Translations  from  "Recollections  of  Childhood  and 
Youth" 

[He  is  about  to  leave  Issy  for  St.  Sulpice.  History  and  natural 
science  studies.] 

It  was  decided,  therefore,  that  after  my  two  years  of  "phi- 
losophy" I  should  enter  the  seminary  of  Saint  Sulpice  in  oider  to 
study  theology.  The  flash  which  ;had  lighted  up  for  a  moment 
M.  Gottofrey's  mind  [that  Renan  was  no  longer  a  Christian]  had 
failed  to  produce  any  results.  But  to-day,  at  thirty-eight  years 
of  distance,  I  recognize  the  great  penetration  he  showed.  He 
alone  was  clear  sighted,  for  he  was  a  genuine  saint.  I  surely 
regret  now  that  I  did  not  follow  his  admonition.  I  should  have 


Renan  and  Biblical  Criticism  223 

left  the  seminary  without  having  studied  Hebrew  or  theology. 
Physiology  and  the  natural  sciences  would  have  attracted  me. 
But — I  can  safely  say  it — the  extreme  ardor  which  those  vital 
sciences  excited  in  my  mind  makes  me  believe  that  had  I  culti- 
vated them  regularly  I  should  have  reached  several  of  Darwin's 
results,  of  which  I  had  a  glimpse.  I  went  to  Saint  Sulpice,  I 
learned  German  and  Hebrew;  that  changed  everything.  I  was 
drawn  towards  the  historical  sciences,  petty  conjectural  sciences 
which  are  undone  as  soon  as  formed,  and  which  will  be  neglected 
in  a  hundred  years.  Indeed,  we  are  witnessing  the  dawn  of  an 
age  in  which  man  will  no  longer  accord  much  interest  to  his  past. 
I  am  very  much  afraid  that  our  exact  contributions  of  the  Acad- 
emy of  Inscriptions  and  Belles  Lettres,  destined  to  give  a  certain 
definiteness  to  history,  will  decay  before  they  are  read.  It  is 
through  chemistry  at  one  end  of  the  ladder,  through  astronomy  at 
the  other,  it  is  through  general  physiology  especially  that  we 
really  attain  the  secret  of  being,  of  the  world,  of  God,  as  they 
wish  to  call  him.  My  lifelong  regret  is  that  I  chose  for  my 
studies  a  kind  of  research  which  will  never  reach  conclusions,  but 
will  always  remain  in  a  state  of  interesting  considerations  about  a 
reality  gone  forevermore.  But  so  far  as  the  exercise  and  pleasure 
of  my  thought  were  concerned,  I  certainly  chose  the  better  part. 
At  Saint  Sulpice,  in  fact,  I  was  placed  face  to  face  with  the  Bible 
and  the  sources  of  Christianity.  In  the  following  account  I  will 
tell  with  what  ardor  I  set  about  this  study,  and  how  by  a  series  of 
critical  deductions,  which  forced  themselves  onto  my  mind,  the 
foundations  of  my  life,  such  as  I  had  understood  it  to  be  up  to 
that  time,  were  wholl"  overthrown. 

From  the  Preface  to  the  ' '  Recollections  of  Childhood  and 
Youth.'"  On  the  Americanization  of  Europe  and  the 
Future  of  the  Universe 

On  the  whole,  it  is  quite  possible  that  the  American  kind  of 
society,  towards  which  we  are  advancing,  whatever  our  form  of 
government  may  be,  will  not  be  more  unendurable  for  intellectual 
people  than  the  social  conditions  we  have  passed  through,  which 
offered  better  guaranties.  We  will  be  able  to  make  quite  calm 


224  Ten  Frenchmen 

retreats  for  ourselves  in  such  a  world.  "The  era  of  mediocrity  is 
beginning  in  all  things,"  said  recently  a  talentedjthinker  (Amiel). 
"Equality  engenders  uniformity,  and  it  is  by  sacrificing  the  excel- 
lent, the  remarkable,  the  extraordinary  that  we  get  rid  of  the  bad. 
Everything  becomes  less  uncouth;  but  everything  is  more  vulgar." 
At  least  we  may  hope  that  vulgarity  will  not  turn  persecutor  of  free 
thought  so  quickly.  Descartes,  in  that  brilliant  seventeenth  cen- 
tury, found  himself  nowhere  so  well  off  as  at  Amsterdam,  because 
"everybody  there  being  engrossed  in  trade"  no  one  bothered 
about  him.  Perhaps  general  vulgarity  will  some  day  be  the  con- 
dition of  the  happiness  of  the  elect.  American  vulgarity  would 
not  burn  Giordano  Bruno,  would  not  persecute  Galileo.  We  have 
no  right  to  be  very  hard  to  suit.  In  the  past,  in  the  best  of  times, 
we  have  been  no'more  than  tolerated.  We  shall  surely  obtain  this 
tolerance  at  least  from  the  future.  A  limited  democratic  govern- 
ment is,  as  we  know,  prone  to  be  vexatious.  Still  intellectual 
people  live  in  America,  provided  they  do  not  exact  too  much. 
"Touch  me  not,"  is  all  we  must  ask  of  democracy.  We  shall  yet 
pass  through  many  alternatives  of  anarchy  and  despotism  before 
we  find  repose  in  that  golden  mean.  But  liberty  is  like  truth. 
Almost  no  one  cares  for  it  for  itself,  and  yet,  on  account  of  the 
impossibility  of  extremes,  we  always  return  to  it. 

Let  us,  then,  without  being  disturbed,  allow  the  destinies  of 
the  planet  to  be  fulfilled.  Our  cries  won't  do  any  good;  our  ill 
humor  would  be  out  of  place.  It  isn't  certain  that  the  earth  will 
not  fail  of  its  destiny,  as  innumerable  worlds  have  probably  done. 
It  is  even  possible  that  our  times  may  be  an  epoch  which  is  con- 
sidered to  be  the  highest  point,  beyond  which  humanity  will  only 
decline.  But  the  universe  does  not  know  discouragement.  It 
will  begin  again,  and  endlessly  again,  the  ill-fated  task.  Each 
failure  leaves  it  young,  alert,  full  of  illusions.  Courage,  courage, 
nature !  Like  the  deaf  and  blind  starfish,  which  vegetates  at  the 
bottom  of  the  ocean,  pursue  thy  obscure  life  labor.  Be  persistent. 
Repair  for  the  millionth  time  the  broken  mesh  of  the  net,  make 
over  the  auger  which  bores  to  the  last  limits  of  the  attainable  the 
well  whence  living  water  will  gush  forth.  Aim  and  aim  again  at 
the  mark  thou  hast  missed  since  eternity  began.  Try  to  steal  into 
the  imperceptible  hole  of  the  orifice  which  leads  to  another  sky. 


Renan  and  Biblical  Criticism  225 

Thou  hast  infinite  space  and  infinite  time  for  thy  experiment. 
When  one  has  the  right  to  make  mistakes  with  impunity,  success 
is  always  sure. 

"  The  Life  of  Jesus" 
(Dedication.) 

To  the  pure  soul  of  my  sister  Henrietta,  dead  at  Byblos,  Sep- 
tember 24,  1861. 

Do  you  remember,  in  the  bosom  of  God,  where  you  are  rest- 
ing, those  long  days  at  Ghazir,  where  alone  with  you,  I  wrote 
these  pages  inspired  by  the  places  we  had  visited  together? 
Silent  by  my  side  you  read  over  each  page  and  copied  it  as  soon 
as  it  was  written,  while  sea,  villages,  ravines,  mountains,  unrolled 
themselves  at  our  feet.  When  the  blinding  light  had  given  way  to 
the  innumerable  army  of  stars,'your  keen  and  subtle  questions 
your  prudent  doubts,  would  lead  me  back  to  the  sublime  object  of 
our  common  thought.  One  day  you  told  me  you  would  love  this 
book,  in  the  first  place  because  you  had  helped  make  it,  and  also 
because  it  pleased  you.  If  you  sometimes  feared  the  narrow 
judgments  of  frivolous  people  on  it,  you  were  always  sure  that  the 
souls  of  the  truly  religious  would  finally  like  it.  In  the  midst  of 
these  sweet  communings  death  struck  both  of  us  with  his  wing. 
The  sleep  of  fever  seized  us  both  at  the  same  hour.  I  awoke 
alone!  ....  You  are  sleeping  now  in  Adonis's  land,  near  holy 
Byblos,  by  the  sacred  waters  where  the  women  of  the  ancient 
mysteries  came  to  mingle  their  tears.  Reveal,  good  genius,  to  me 
whom  you  loved  those  truths  which  rule  over  death,  prevent  our 
fearing  it,  and  almost  make  us  love  it. 

From   the  Last  Chapter  of  the  ' '  Life  of  Jesus. ' '    The 
Essential  Character  of  Jesus'  Work 

Jesus'  activity,  as  we  have  seen,  was  never  exerted  outside  the 
circle  of  the  Jews.  Although  his  sympathy  for  all  those  scorned 
by  the  orthodox  inclined  him  to  admit  pagans  into  the  kingdom  of 
God,  although  he  resided  more  than  once  in  pagan  territory,  and 
once  or  twice  we  find  him  in  kindly  relations  with  unbelievers,  we 
may  say  that  his  entire  life  was  passed  in  the  little  shut-up  world 
where  he  was  born.  Greek  and  Roman  countries  did  not  hear  of 


226  Ten  Frenchmen 

him.  His  name  is  not  found  in  profane  writers  until  a  century 
later,  and  then  in  an  indirect  way,  in  connection  with  seditious 
movements  provoked  by  his  teaching,  or  persecutions  of  which 
his  disciples  were  the  object.  In  the  bosom  of  Judaism  even 
Jesus  did  not  make  a  very  lasting  impression.  Philo,  who  died 
towards  50  A.D.,  has  no  suspicion  of  him.  Josephus,  born  in  37, 
and  writing  in  the  last  years  of  the  century,  mentions  his  execution 
in  a  few  lines,  as  an  event  of  secondary  importance.  In  the  enu- 
meration of  the  sects  of  his  day  he  omits  the  Christians 

The  essential  work  of  Jesus  was  to  create  a  circle  of  disciples 
around  him,  in  whom  he  inspired  a  limitless  attachment,  and  in 
whose  bosom  he  placed  the  germ  of  his  doctrine.  To  have  made 
himself  loved  "to  such  a  degree  that  they  did  not  cease  to  love 
him  after  his  death,"  this  is  the  master  work  of  Jesus  and  the 
thing  which  struck  his  contemporaries  the  most.  His  doctrine 
was  something  so  lacking  in  dogmatism  that  he  never  thought  of 
writing  it  down  or  having  it  written  down.  Men  became  his  dis- 
ciples, not  by  believing  this  or  that,  but  by  attaching  themselves  to 
his  person  and  loving  him.  Some  sentences  soon  taken  down 
from  memory,  and  especially  his  moral  type  and  the  impression 
he  had  left  were  what  remained  of  him.  Jesus  is  not  a  founder 
of  dogmas,  a  maker  of  symbols;  he  is  the  one  who  initiates  the 

world  into  a  new  spirit To  cling  to  Jesus  in  view  of  the 

kingdom  of  God,  that  was  what  was  first  called  being  a  Christian. 
In  this  way  we  understand  how  pure  Christianity,  by  an  excep- 
tional destiny,  still  presents  itself  at  the  end  of  eighteen  centuries 
with  the  character  of  a  universal  and  eternal  religion.  It  is 
because  in  fact  the  religion  of  Jesus  is  in  some  respects  the  defini- 
tive religion.  The  product  of  a  perfectly  spontaneous  movement 
of  souls,  freed  at  its  birth  from  all  dogmatic  constraint,  having 
struggled  three  hundred  years  for  liberty  of  conscience,  Chris- 
tianity, in  spite  of  the  relapses  which  have  followed,  still  reaps  the 
fruits  of  this  excellent  origin.  To  be  renewed  it  has  only  to  revert 
to  the  Gospel.  The  kingdom  of  God,  as  we  conceive  it,  differs 
notably  from  the  supernatural  apparition  which  the  first  Christians 
hoped  to  see  burst  forth  in  the  clouds  of  heaven.  But  the  senti- 
ment which  Jesus  introduced  into  the  world  is  truly  ours.  His 
perfect  idealism  is  the  highest  rule  for  a  self-renunciating  and  vir- 


Renan  and  Biblical  Criticism  217 

tuous  life.  He  has  created  the  heaven  of  pure  souls  where  is 
found  what  we  in  vain  ask  for  from  the  earth,  perfect  nobility  of 
God's  children,  absolute  purity,  total  separation  from  the  world's 
uncleanness,  liberty  finally  which  actual  society  excludes  as  an 
impossible  thing  and^which  reaches  its  whole  amplitude  only  in 
the  domain  of  thought.  The  great  master  of  those  who  take  refuge 
in  this  ideal  kingdom  of  God  is  Jesus  still.  He  first  proclaimed 
the  royalty  of  _the  mind.  He  first  said,  by  his  acts  at  least,  "My 
kingdom  is  not  of  this  world."  The  foundation  of  true  religion 
is  indeed  his  work.  After  ^him  nothing  remains  to  be  done  but 
develop  and  fructify. 

The  Final  Paragraphs  in  '•'•Marcus  Aurelius."     On  the 
World's  Future 

What  is  beyond  all  doubt  is  that  whatever  be  the  religious 
future  of  mankind,  Jesus'  place  in  it  will  be  very  great.  He  was 
the  founder  of  Christianity,  and  Christianity  remains  the  bed  of 
the  great  religious  stream  of  humanity.  Tributaries  coming  from 
the  most  opposite' points  of  the  horizon  have  mingled  there.  In 
this  meeting  of  waters  no  one  source  can  now  say,  "This  is  my 
tide."  But  let  us  not  forget  the  primitive  brook  of  the  origins,  the 
mountain  spring,  the  headwaters,  where  a  river  which  afterwards 
became  broad  as  the  Amazon,  at  first  ran  along  in  a  fold  of 
ground  no  wider  than  a  step.  It  is  the  picture  of  this  head 
stream  that  I  have  wished  to  draw,  fortunate  if  I  presented  in  its 
truth  the  sap  and  the  vigor  there  was  on  those  high  peaks,  the 
sensations,  now  warm,  now  icy,  the  life  divine,  the  intercourse  with 
heaven !  The  creators  of  Christianity  rightly  occupy  the  first  rank 
in  the  homage  of  humanity.  These  men  were  very  inferior  to  us 
in  their  knowledge  of  the  real,  but  they  had  no  equals  in  convic- 
tion, in  devotion.  And  yet  this  is  what  founds  things.  The 
solidity  of  a  structure  is  in  proportion  to  the  amount  of  virtue — 
that  is  to  say,  of  sacrifice — which  has  been  placed  in  its  founda- 
tions. In  this  edifice  which  has  been  ruined  by  time  what  excellent 
stones,  moreover,  which  might  be  employed  again  just  as  they 
are  to  the  profit  of  our  modern  buildings !  What  will  teach  us  an 
unshaken  hope  in  a  fortunate  future  better  than  messianic  Judaism, 


228  Ten  Frenchmen 

faith  in  a  brilliant  destiny  for  humanity,  under  the  government  of 
an  aristocracy  of  just  men?  Is  not  the  kingdom  of  God  the 
complete  expression  of  the  final  end  which  the  idealist  pursues? 
The  Sermon  on  the  Mount  remains  its  finished  code.  Reciprocal 
love,  gentleness,  goodness,  disinterestedness,  will  always  be  the 
essential  laws  of  the  perfect  life.  The  association  of  the  weak  is 
the  legitimate  solution  of  the  greater  part  of  the  problems  which 
the  organization  of  humanity  raises.  On  this  point  Christianity 
can  give  lessons  to  all  the  ages.  The  Christian  martyr  will  remain 
to  the  end  of  time  the  typical  defender  of  the  rights  of  the  con- 
science. In  short,  the  difficult  and  dangerous  art  of  governing 
sc^ils,  if  it  is  taken  up  some  day,  will  be  taken  up  on  the  basis  of 
models  furnished  by  the  first  Christian  doctors.  They  possessed 
secrets  which  we  shall  learn  in  their  school  only.  There  have 
been  more  austere  professors  of  virtue,  more  unyielding  perhaps, 
but  there  have  never  been  such  masters  of  the  science  of  happi- 
ness as  they.  The  soul's  delight  is  the  great  Christian  art,  to 
such  a  degree  that  civil  government  has  been  obliged  to  take  pre- 
cautions that  men  may  not  bury  themselves  in  it.  Fatherland  and 
family  are  the  two  great  natural  forms  of  human  association. 
Both  of  them  are  necessary,  but  they  could  not  suffice.  We  must 
maintain  [by  their  side  the  place  of  an  institution  where  one  may 
receive  nourishment  for  the  soul,  consolation,  advice,  where 
charity  may  be  organized,  where  spiritual  teachers  may  be  found, 
a  spiritual  guide.  This  is  called  the  Church.  We  shall  never  get 
rid  of  it,  unless  we  wish  to  reduce  life  to  a  despairing  aridity,  espe- 
cially for  women.  What  we  are  concerned  about  is  that  ecclesi- 
astical society  may  not  weaken  civil  society,  that  liberty  be  one 
and  undivided,  that  the  Church  does  not  wield  temporal  power, 
that  the  state  pay  no  attention  to  it,  either  to  control  it  or  foster 
it.  During  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  Christianity  gave  perfect 
models  of  these  small  and  free  associations. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 

Ernest  Renan.     Sir  M.  E.  Grant  Duff. 
Life  of  Ernest  Renan.     F.  Espinasse. 

Renan.     F.  Brunetiere,  in  Warner's  "Library  of  the  World's 
Best  Literature,"  Vol.  XXI. 


CHAPTER  X 

PASTEUR   AND    THE    GERM    THEORY 

[Louis  PASTEUR,  born  at  Dole,  December  27,  1822;  educated  at 
Arbois  (1829),  Besancon  (1839),  and  the  Ecole  Normale 
at  Paris  (1843) ;  assistant  professor  of  Chemistry  in  the  Uni- 
versity of  Strassburg,  1849;  full  professor,  1852;  dean  of  the 
Faculty  of  Sciences  at  Lille,  1854;  director  of  sciences  at^he 
Ecole  Normale,  1857;  professor  of  Geology  and  Chemistry  at 
the  Ecole  des  Beaux- Arts,  1863;  professor  of  Chemistry  at 
the  Sorbonne,  1867;  pensioned  by  the  government,  1875; 
elected  to  the  French  Academy,  1881;  Pasteur  Institute 
founded,  1888;  died  at  Villeneuve  1'Etang,  September  28, 
1895.  Chief  discoveries :  Molecular  dissymmetry  of  crystals, 
1848;  fermentations,  1857;  spontaneous  generations,  1862; 
diseases  of  wine,  1865:  silkworm  disease,  1868;  studies  on 
beer,  1876;  vaccine  virus,  1881;  prophylactic  for  hydro- 
phobia, 1885.] 

While  the  nine'teenth  century  witnessed  the  rapid 
strides  of  the  natural  sciences  the  one  nearest  the  heart 
of  humanity,  the  science  of  medicine,  was  advancing  with 
faltering  steps.  The  reason  for  this  lagging  is  now  clearly 
seen.  For  many  centuries  disease  had  been  treated  theo- 
retically, with  remedies  prepared  beforehand  and  applica- 
ble to  nearly  all  forms  of  illness.  With  the  discovery  of 
the  circulation  of  blood  by  William  Harvey  in  the  seven- 
teenth century,  observation  began  to  be  substituted  for 
theory.  So  fast  as  the  minds  of  practitioners  could  be 
freed  from  prejudice  the  symptoms  of  different  kinds  of 
maladies  were  noted,  and  experiments  tried  to  meet  their 

229 


230  Ten  Frenchmen 

peculiar  conditions.  Though  much  good  was  accom- 
plished in  this  way,  by  discontinuing  the  use  of  harmful 
prescriptions  and  allowing  nature  to  follow  her  own 
course,  though  the  patient  in  many  cases  was  relieved 
from  unnecessary  torture  and  his  vitality  given  a  fair 
chance  to  assert  itself,  yet  the  disease  was  not  stopped, 
nor  even  scotched  in  its  first  stages.  In  other  words,  the 
mere  observation  of  the  phenomena  of  disease  and  the 
deductions  made  from  them  produced  really  negative 
results.  Something  which  should  go  behind  the  symp- 
toms and  reach  their  hidden  causes  was  essential  to  any 
forward  movement.  So  medicine  was  forced  to  wait  on 
the  progress  of  the  other  sciences,  chemistry,  biology, 
physiology,  even  physics,  and  it  was  only  in  the  last  half 
of  the  nineteenth  century  that  these  allies  were  ready  to 
come  to  its  aid. 

In  the  light  of  these  facts  it  should  be  no  matter  of 
surprise  to  us,  that  one  of  those  investigators,  who  have 
most  contributed  to  the  advancement  of  medical  knowl- 
edge in  the  past  thirty  years,  should  begin  his  career  as  a 
devotee  of  the  natural  sciences  and  always  hold  the  official 
title  of  professor  of  chemistry,  and  that  the  discoveries 
and  inventions  which  have  entered  into  the  daily  life  of 
nearly  every  household  in  Christendom  should  be  made  by 
a  student  whose  researches  were  first  directed  towards 
problems  of  a  purely  theoretical  nature.  It  is  not  neces- 
sary to  name  Louis  Pasteur. 

Pasteur  was  born  in  1822  at  Dole,  in  the  Jura  Moun- 
tains, the  son  of  a  Napoleonic  veteran,  decorated  on  the 
battle-field,  who  had  retired  to  the  homely  vocation  of  a 
tanner.  When  the  child  was  two  years  old  the  family 
moved  to  Arbois,  and  it  was  there  that  he  first  attended 


Pasteur  and  the  Germ  Theory  231 

school.  For  a  while  his  father  was  more  ambitious  than 
he.  He  desired  to  see  his  son  a  teacher  in  this  petty  insti- 
tution, but  young  Pasteur  seemed  to  prefer  an  outdoor 
existence  and  the  drawing  pencil  to  the  use  of  books. 
However,  as  he  grew  older  his  interest  became  awakened. 
When  he  reached  the  limit  of  instruction  at  Arbois  he  was 
sent  to  Besancon,  where  he  took  his  baccalaureate  in 
1840.  Appointed  tutor  in  the  school  on  graduation,  he 
began  to  devote  himself  to  mathematics,  got  all  the  chem- 
istry which  the  teacher  and  the  town  apothecary  could 
give  him,  and  prepared  for  the  examination  in  science  at 
the  Ecole  Normale  at  Paris.  Failing  in  1842  to  pass  with 
as  high  a  grade  as  he  wished  he  went  to  Paris,  entered  a 
private  school,  and  in  October,  1843,  entered  the  Ecole 
Normale  with  improved  standing.  His  taste  for  chem- 
istry had  grown.  The  courses  at  the  school  and  the 
Sorbonne  were  open  to  him.  His  toil  was  unremitting, 
his  progress  rapid. 

One  of  the  lecturers  at  the  Ecole  Normale  was  devoted 
to  the  study  of  molecular  physics,  and  communicated  this 
enthusiasm  to  his  pupil.  With  a  mind  full  of  the  subject, 
the  announcement  in  1844  by  the  German  chemist, 
Mitscherlich,'  of  an  unexplained  difference  in  regard  to 
the  polarization  of  light  between  two  apparently  like  sub- 
stances, the  paratartrate  and  the  tartrate  of  soda  and 
ammonia,  attracted  Pasteur  to  the  investigation  of  crys- 
tals. Availing  himself  of  experiments  made  on  rock- 
crystal  years  before,  he  entered  on  a  series  of  tests,  and 
after  long  months  of  patient  effort,  discovered  that  the  sub- 
stances mentioned  by  Mitscherlich  were  not  alike  in  the 
disposition  of  the  atoms  in  their  molecules.  This  discov- 
ery, which  affirmed  the  theory  of  molecular  dissymmetry, 


232  Ten  Frenchmen 

has  proved  of  great  value  to  chemical  science,  and  'a 
quarter  of  a  century  later  led  to  the  foundation  of  what  is 
now  called  stereo-chemistry.  Pasteur's  results  were  made 
known  in  1848.  His  three  years  at  the  £cole  Normale 
had  expired  in  1846,  but  he  had  remained  as  assistant  in 
the  laboratory. 

In  1848  he  was  appointed  professor  of  physics  at  the 
Dijon  lyce"e,  but  after  three  months'  service  was  trans- 
ferred to  the  University  of  Strassburg  as  assistant  pro- 
fessor of  chemistry.  Here  he  continued  his  work  on 
molecular  dissymmetry,  verifying  with  other  substances  the 
results  already  reached  with  soda  and  ammonia.  All  this 
study  lay  in  the  domain  of  theoretical  science.  But 
Pasteur's  mind  was  such  that  practical  results  were  quite 
sure  to  follow  in  the  steps  of  theory.  They  came  about 
in  this  way.  A  firm  of  chemists  had  noticed  that  impure 
tartrate  of  lime  in  contact  with  organic  matter  fermented 
in  warm  weather.  Pasteur's  attention  being  attracted  to 
this  fact,  he  began  experimenting  with  one  of  the  ammonia 
tartrates,  and  produced  fermentation  by  mixing  it  with 
albumen.  An  examination  of  the  mixture  revealed  the 
presence  of  a  microscopic  organism,  small  living  cells, 
which  were  afterwards  shown  to  produce  the  fermenta- 
tion. Following  up  this  test  with  a  similar  one  on  the 
paratartrate  of  ammonia,  he  discovered  that  the  organism 
destroyed  some  of  the  crystals  and  did  not  affect  others. 
This  discovery  has  proved  of  great  importance  to  the 
science  of  bacteriology,  proving  as  it  does  that  substances 
which  are  chemically  alike  may  be  very  different  physio- 
logically. 

Pasteur's  practical  bent  was  further  stimulated  by  a 
change  of  residence.  After  being  made  full  professor  at 


Pasteur  and  the  Germ  Theory  233 

Strassburg  in  1852,  he  was  appointed,  in  1854,  dean  of 
the  Faculty  of  Sciences  in  a  new  institution  at  Lille,  with 
the  commission  to  organize  the  work.  Lille  is  a  manu- 
facturing center,  and  Pasteur  saw  the  advisability  of  bring- 
ing his  school  into  touch  with  local  industries.  Among 
these  latter  was  the  manufacture  of  alcohol  from  beet  root 
and  grain.  Pasteur  at  once  offered  a  course  of  lectures 
on  fermentation.  He  had  already  convinced  himself  that 
ferments,  contrary  to  the  generally  received  opinion,  are 
living  things,  and  the  so-called  ferments,  as  yeast,  are 
really  the  especial  food  of  ferments.  The  changes  they 
produce  in  a  substance,  which  often  is  apparently  putrefy- 
ing, are  therefore  not  chemical  but  physiological.  They  are 
replete  with  life,  not  with  death.  Various  investigations 
confirmed  these  opinions,  especially  one  connected  with 
the  souring  of  milk.  For  in  the  solid  matter  which  is 
deposited  during  this  process,  Pasteur  found  minute  rod- 
like  corpuscles,  wholly  unlike  the  yeast  cells  of  alcoholic 
fermentation.  Taking  some  of  these  corpuscles  and  plac- 
ing them  in  a  mixture  of  dissolved  sugar,  yeast,  and  chalk, 
he  found  that  they  multiplied  and  produced  fermentation. 
Carrying  on  this  process  from  one  substance  to  another, 
but  always  providing  the  chemical  element  which  gave  the 
corpuscles  food,  he  finally  showed  that  brewer's  yeast  is  a 
living  organism,  whose  growth  is  accompanied  by  the 
conversion  of  sugar  into  alcohol  and  carbonic  anhydrid. 
These  conclusions  on  the  fermentation  of  milk  and  alco- 
holic fermentation  were  published  in  1860,  and  mark  the 
first  step  in  the  science  of  bacteriology. 

Meanwhile  he  had  left  Lille,  in  1857,  for  his  old  insti- 
tution, the  Ecole  Normale,  where  he  was  made  director 
of  sciences,  and  where  we  have  seen  Thiers  among  his 


234  Ten  Frenchmen 

pupils.  In  one  of  the  garrets  of  the  school  he  had  set  up 
an  apology  for  a  laboratory.  Pursuing  his  studies  in  fer- 
mentation, he  had  not  only  reached  the  results  already 
noted,  but  had  further  demonstrated4,  by  experiments  on 
butyric  acid,  that  exposure  to  the  air,  to  a  large  supply  of 
oxygen,  stops  the  fermenting  process  in  certain  sub- 
stances. The  conclusion  was  at  once  drawn,  that  besides 
the  living  beings  which  need  free  oxygen  in  order  to  live, 
there  are  other  beings  whose  power  of  respiration  is  such 
that  they  can  live  by  robbing  certain  compounds  of  their 
oxygen,  thus  decomposing  them.  This  class  would  be 
represented  by  the  ferments,  and  the  most  active  ferments 
are  those  which  can  live  without  free  air.  The  tremen- 
dous part  played  by  these  micro-organisms,  "microbes"  as 
we  now  call  them,  was  at  once  manifest.  They  destroy 
the  old  and  produce  the  new,  preserving  the  world  from 
decay  and  death. 

But  Pasteur  was  now  turned  aside  from  following  out 
the  consequences  of  these  great  discoveries  by  matters  of 
a  minor  though  pressing  importance.  In  the  first  place, 
he  had  to  combat  a  revival  of  the  theory  of  "spontaneous 
generation,"  which  claimed  that  life  could  originate  spon- 
taneously. In  1860  the  Academy  of  Sciences  had  offered 
this  question  as  a  subject  for  a  prize  competition.  Pasteur 
set  about  the  task  of  reaching  a  definite  solution,  and  in 
1862  demonstrated  in  the  presence  of  the  Academy  itself 
that  the  theory  was  not  tenable,  and  that  substances  sub- 
jected to  certain  temperatures  come  to  show  entire  lack 
of  life. 

The  same  year  of  1862  saw  Pasteur  once  more  occu- 
pied with  the  problem  of  fermentation,  the  vinegar  vats  of 
the  manufactories  at  Orleans  furnishing  him  the  material 


Pasteur  and  the  Germ  Theory  235 

for  his  researches.  He  showed  the  vinegar-makers  that 
the  conversion  of  wine  into  vinegar  was  caused  by  a  minute 
organism  requiring  free  oxygen,  which  could  be  cultivated, 
and  by  its  cultivation  greatly  reduce  the  time  required  for 
vinegar  fermentation.  From  experiments  with  vinegar  he 
was  naturally  led  to  a  consideration  of  the  diseases  which 
affect  the  production  of  its  "raw  material,"  wine,  The 
wine  growers  were  having  much  difficulty  with  their  vine- 
yards. The  wine  in  many  cases  spoiled  on  their  hands. 
Pasteur  discovered  in  some  wines,  in  addition  to  the  regu- 
lar yeast  cells  of  fermentation,  a  microscopic  organism 
which  was  absent  from  the  good  wines.  He  suggested 
raising  the  wines  thus  affected  to  a  certain  temperature, 
which  should  be  sufficient  to  stop  the  growth  of  the  bac- 
teria and  yet  preserve  the  native  flavor  of  the  wine.  This 
process  of  partial  sterilization,  now  known  by  the  term 
"Pasteurization,"  has  already  proved  of  the  greatest 
benefit  to  humanity,  notably  in  the  case  of  milk.  And  its 
application  to  provisions  of  a  perishable  nature  may  be 
said  to  be  still  in  its  infancy. 

In  1863  Pasteur  added  to  his  position  at  the  Ecole 
Normale  ,the  professorship  of  geology  and  chemistry  at 
the  School  of  Fine  Arts.  The  new  post  in  no  way  inter- 
fered with  his  assiduous  daily  attendance  at  his  laboratory, 
nor  in  the  prosecution  of  his  favorite  studies.  But  in 
1865  he  was  called  upon  to  give  them  up  for  the  time 
being  and  begin  another  line  of  work.  The  silkworm 
disease  had  attained  the  proportions  of  a  national  calamity 
in  France.  The  regions  given  over  to  the  cultivation  of 
raw  silk  had  been  practically  ruined.  As  long  before  as 
1857  the  government  had  sent  Pasteur's  old  teacher  at  the 
Sorbonne,  Dumas,  to  the  stricken  localities  to  examine 


236  Ten  Frenchmen 

into  the  situation.  But  he  had  been  unable  to  suggest 
remedies.  In  1865  the  question  again  became  urgent. 
Dumas  had  done  his  best.  He  fell  back  on  Pasteur.  The 
latter  objected  to  abandoning  his  experiments  on  fermenta- 
tion, but  finally  yielded  to  pressure,  and  once  more  shifted 
his  specialty,  this  time  to  the  field  of  entomology.  He 
knew  nothing  at  all  about  the  subject,  but  profiting  by  the 
reports  of  predecessors  aifd  his  own  observation  on  the 
spot,  he  decided  that  the  root  of  the  trouble  lay  in  minute 
corpuscles  which  were  present  in  large  numbers  in  the 
bodies  of  the  diseased  worms.  How  they  came  there 
was  the  question.  Unexpected  obstacles  baffled  for  a 
while  the  investigator,  and  even  turned  him  into  the 
wrong  way,  but  finally  his  persistent  toil  and  concentra- 
tion of  purpose  won  the  victory.  He  reached  the  conclu- 
sion that  the  disease  was  due  to  a  parasite,  that  this 
parasite  first  existed  in  the  moth  which  laid  the  eggs 
which  hatched  into  worms.  By  pounding  the  body  of  the 
moth  in  a  mortar,  mixing  the  dust  with  water,  and  ex- 
amining the  liquid  thus  formed  under  a  microscope  he 
discovered  the  same  organism  which  had  been  noticed  in 
the  worms.  It  was  absent  from  healthy  moths.  All  that 
was  necessary,  therefore,  was  to  persuade  the  silkworm 
growers  to  examine  the  moths  under  a  microscope  and 
separate  the  healthy  ones  from  the  diseased.  This  is 
what  is  done  to-day.  In  ferreting  out  the  origin  of  this 
disease  Pasteur  discovered  the  existence  of  another,  which 
attacks  the  worms  after  they  have  grown.  For  this  also 
he  suggested  remedies. 

Rewards  followed  the  success  of  this  work.  In  1868 
the  University  of  Bonn  conferred  on  him  the  honorary 
degree  of  Doctor  of  Medicine.  The  same  year  the  Aus- 


Pasteur  and  the  Germ  Theory  237 

trian  government  awarded  him  a  prize  which  had  been 
offered  for  the  extermination  of  the  disease  among  silk- 
worms, and  in  1869  he  was  elected  a  foreign  member  of 
the  Royal  Society  of  London.  Napoleon  III  offered  him 
the  Prince  Imperial's  estate  near  Trieste  for  further  ex- 
perimentation with  the  worms,  and  in  July,  1870,  nomi- 
nated him  to  the  Senate  of  the  Empire.  His  book  on 
"Silkworm  Diseases,"  published  in  1870,  was  dedicated 
to  Empress  Eugenie. 

But  such  results  had  not  been  reached  without  much 
self-sacrifice.  In  1866  his  wife  and  daughters  had  joined 
him  at  Alais,  in  southern  France,  near  which  town  he  was 
experimenting.  One  of  the  children  developed  typhoid 
fever  there  and  died.  In  the  autumn  of  1868  anxiety 
over  the  outcome  of  the  investigations,  coupled  with  over- 
work, brought  on  an  attack  of  paralysis,  from  the  effects 
of  which  his  body  never  fully  recovered.  But  his  mind 
remained  clear,  and  as  soon  as  he  could  be  moved,  he 
insisted  on  returning  to  the  field  of  action,  where  he 
directed  his  humanitarian  campaign  from  his  arm-chair. 
During  the  Franco-Prussian  War,  a  war  which  inflicted 
such  wounds  on  his  patriotism  that  he  formally  requested 
the  University  of  Bonn  to  take  back  the  degree  conferred 
on  him  in  1868,  he  was  forced  to  remain  inactive.  But 
his  energy  was  only  heightened  by  his  involuntary  vaca- 
tion, and  in  the  spring  of  1871  he  returned  to  his  researches 
into  fermentation.  The  Commune  held  Paris.  He  took 
refuge  with  an  old  pupil  in  the  latter's  laboratory  at  Cler- 
mont-Ferrand. Partly  actuated  by  a  desire  to  contribute 
to  the  restoration  of  France,  he  now  took  up  the  subject 
of  beer,  and  found  out  how  to  preserve  its  yeast  pure  and 
uncontaminated.  Further  experiments  in  sterilization 


238  Ten  Frenchmen 

accompanied  these  studies,  while  the  phenomena  of  fer- 
mentation were  reviewed  and  explained,  particularly  in 
regard  to  the  varying  amounts  of  oxygen  required  in  the 
fermentation  of  different  substances. 

We  have  reached  the  time  when  Pasteur  was  to  give 
himself  up  to  studies  even  more  closely  related  to  the 
health  of  man.  It  was  evident  that  what  had  happened 
in  the  case  of  silkworms,  a  disease  cured  by  the  removal 
of  the  germ  which  caused  the  disease,  could  also  happen 
in  the  case  of  mammals.  That  this  deduction  had  long 
suggested  itself  to  Pasteur's  mind  is  proven  by  various 
allusions  in  his  publications  to  the  possibility  of  destroying 
infectious  diseases.  His  studies  on  fermentation  had 
aroused  universal  interest,  and  had  led  to  many  investiga- 
tions and  successful  experiments,  among  which  should  be 
mentioned  the  antiseptic  treatment  of  wounds  in  surgery, 
by  which  the  harmful  bacteria  are  made  innocuous.  He 
had  also  cultivated  germs  and  transplanted  them  from  one 
medium  to  another,  as  we  have  seen.  Furthermore, 
during  his  long  years  of  laboratory  work  he  had  come 
into  the  possession  of  apparatus  of  unusual  efficiency  and 
variety.  So  that  when,  in  1876,  his  attention  was  called 
to  the  prevalence  of  splenic  fever  in  cattle  by  a  mono- 
graph on  the  subject  by  the  now  famous  German,  Doctor 
Koch,  he  was  quite  prepared  to  push  on  the  discoveries 
made  by  this  younger  student  and  his  older  predecessors. 

For  over  twenty  years  it  had  been  asserted  that  splenic 
fever  was  contagious,  and  that  the  seat  of  the  contagion 
undoubtedly  lay  in  small,  rod-like  bodies  to  be  found  in  the 
blood  of  the  infected  animals.  But  these  views  were  not 
generally  accepted,  and  part  of  Pasteur's  service  was  to 
lie  in  the  way  of  proving  them  beyond  a  doubt.  He  does 


Pasteur  and  the  Germ  Theory  239 

this  by  cultivating  the  bacillus  of  the  fever  and  inoculating 
successive  flasks  of  sterilized  liquid  with  it.  Traces  of 
the  microbe  could  be  found  even  in  the  last  and  weakest 
of  the  inoculations.  He  then  proceeded  to  further  tests, 
which  finally  revealed  in  the  blood  of  animals  that  had 
died  of  the  fever  another  and  more  virulent  bacillus.  This 
newcomer  would  declare  itself  only  a  few  hours  after 
death,  and  would  destroy  the  first  bacillus.  He  also 
noted  that  this  bacillus,  while  destroyed  in  turn  by  the 
oxygen  of  the  air,  could  put  out  spores  which  resist  the 
air's  action.  The  report  of  these  experiments  was  first 
given  to  the  Institute  in  1877,  on  which  occasion  Pasteur 
particularly  emphasized  the  annihilation  of  one  bacillus  by 
another,  a  new  step  won  in  the  domain  of  bacteriology. 
It  is  the  bacillus  which  can  do  without  free  oxygen  that 
triumphs.  Pasteur  had  also  noticed  that  the  regular 
bacillus  of  the  fever  when  inoculated  into  rabbits,  sheep, 
and  other  animals  invariably  proved  fatal,  but  had  no 
effect  on  fowls.  This  peculiarity  led  him  to  the  idea  that 
this  failure  was  due  to  the  higher  temperature  of  the  blood 
of  bipeds.  He  lowered  this  temperature  artificially,  and 
succeeded  in  proving  that  his  conception  was  correct. 
The  fowl  died  if  left  at  low  temperature,  or  recovered 
if  gradually  warmed  to  its  normal. 

Filled  with  these  ideas,  advancing  from  one  step  to 
another,  Pasteur  discovered  the  germ  of  puerperal  fever. 
Koch's  introduction  of  gelatine  plates  for  the  purpose  not 
only  of  studying  bacteria  in  a  transparent  medium,  as  had 
already  been  done,  but  also  with  the  intention  of  isolating 
the  microbes  rendered  all  such  experiments  much  easier 
of  prosecution  and  gave  them  a  great  extension.  Pasteur, 
however,  was  now  deeply  engrossed  in  the  corollary  of  his 


240  Ten  Frenchmen 

theory,  how  to  produce  immunity  from  the  virulence  of 
these  unwholesome  organisms.  Turning  to  fowl  cholera 
he  discovered  the  microbe  which  caused  it,  inoculated 
rabbits  with  it  with  fatal  results,  guinea  pigs  without 
harming  them,  but  on  reintroducing  it  from  the  pigs  into 
the  fowls  found  it  had  lost  none  of  its  activity.  No 
progress  had  been  made  evidently.  Vacation  had  come 
— it  was  the  summer  of  1880 — and  the  laboratory  was 
abandoned  for  a  while.  On  Pasteur's  return,  some  weeks 
later,  it  was  found  that  many  of  his  cultures  were  dead. 
Those  which  still  lived  he  transplanted,  but  with  poor 
results.  The  fowls  remained  healthy.  It  then  occurred 
to  him  to  inoculate  the  same  fowls  with  new  bacteria. 
They  were  not  affected  by  them,  while  other  fowls  not 
previously  inoculated,  died  of  the  disease.  Here  was  a 
discovery,  of  which  it  remained  to  test  the  circumstances. 
The  experiments  which  followed  showed  that  the  virus,  if 
kept  at  a  fairly  high  temperature,  and  exposed  to  the  action 
of  air,  lost  the  malignity  it  retained  away  from  free  oxygen. 
Here  was  vaccine  matter  which  possessed  the  power  to 
transmit  its  weakened  character.  Fowls  inoculated  with 
it  were  but  slightly  affected,  and  proved  immune  to  the 
attacks  of  the  unmodified  germ. 

Encouraged  by  these  results,  Pasteur  returned  to  his 
original  proposition,  the  discovery  of  a  vaccine  for  the 
cattle  disease.  This  was  a  more  difficult  problem,  for 
the  spores  put  out  by  the  splenic  fever  bacillus  resisted 
the  action  of  free  oxygen.  It  was  necessary  to  prevent 
this  production  of  spores.  Various  tests  were  made. 
Experiment  followed  experiment.  The  "Master,"  as  his 
assistants  delighted  to  call  him,  became  more  and  more 
preoccupied,  more  and  more  concentrated.  Finally  it  was 


Pasteur  and  the  Germ  Theory  241 

found  that  the  virus  did  not  form  spores  at  a  certain  high 
temperature,  that  after  a  lapse  of  time  it  lost  some  of  its 
power  and  transmitted  this  lower  activity  to  other  gener- 
ations. Here  was  the  vaccine.  In  February,  1881, 
the  report  was  given  to  the  Institute,  and  in  May  of  that 
year  the  test  was  made  on  a  large  scale — with  fifty  sheep 
— near  Melun.  The  verification  was  absolute,  and  the 
vaccination  of  cattle  and  sheep  for  splenic  fever  has  since 
this  date  been  extensively  performed  in  France.  Soon 
afterwards  a  vaccine  for  swine  measles  was  obtained  by 
passing  its  virus  through  rabbits,  from  one  to  another 
until  its  activity  was  lessened  and  it  could  be  used  on 
swine  again  for  inoculation.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the 
same  virus  be  passed  through  the  bodies  of  successive 
pigeons  it  increases  in  virulence.  It  must  be  remembered 
that  a  great  share  of  the  actual  labor  of  these  experiments 
devolved  on  the  "Master's"  devoted  assistants,  among 
whom  were  counted  some  of  the  foremost  scholars  of 
the  present  generation  in  France. 

From  the  disease  of  animals  Pasteur  rose,  in  1881,  to 
the  diseases  of  man,  or  rather  to  a  disease  of  both  ani- 
mals and  men.  He  now  possessed  abundant  leisure  and 
means  for  prosecuting  these  more  complicated  researches. 
Already,  in  1875,  he  had  resigned  his  Sorbonne  profes- 
sorship, conferred  on  him  in  1867,  and  was  thus  rid  of 
even  the  somewhat  perfunctory  instruction  the  position 
had  required.  At  the  same  time  the  National  Assembly 
had  recognized  the  value  of  his  private  work  by  granting 
him  an  annual  pension  of  twelve  thousand  francs.  In 
1883  this  sum  was  increased  to  twenty-five  thousand,  and 
its  provisions  extended  to  cover  the  lifetime  of  his  wife 
and  children.  On  the  financial  side,  therefore,  he  had  no 


242  Ten  Frenchmen 

cares,  and  it  was  with  undivided  attention  that  he  now 
gave  himself  up  to  the  study  of  hydrophobia.  His  choice 
of  this  somewhat  unimportant  malady  was  probably  deter- 
mined by  the  consideration  that  its  causes  could  be  dis- 
covered through  experiments  made  on  animals. 

Various  attempts  to  inoculate  dogs  with  the  disease 
met  with  but  slight  success.  It  was  recognized  that  the 
seat  of  hydrophobia  is  located  in  the  nervous  system. 
Now,  the  center  of  the  nervous  system  lies  in  the  brain, 
and  the  best  test  of  rabies  cultivation  would  be  to  intro- 
duce the  virus  into  the  brain,  an  operation  which  would 
require  trepanning.  Out  of  dislike  to  cause  suffering 
Pasteur  hesitated  before  this  act,  and  finally  it  was  per- 
formed by  his  assistant,  Doctor  Roux,  during  his  absence. 
Subsequent  experiments  showed  that  exposure  to  free 
oxygen,  to  a  dry  atmosphere,  diminished  the  power  of  the 
virus,  and  that  animals  inoculated  three  times  in  daily  suc- 
cession with  the  virus,  weakened  in  varying  degrees, 
became  immune  to  the  disease.  It  was  also  proven  that 
the  vaccine  process  takes  two  weeks,  and  as  hydrophobia 
in  man  requires  a  month  or  more  for  its  development, 
there  was  no  reason  why  prompt  attention  to  the  bites  of 
rabid  animals  should  not  save  the  victims  from  serious 
consequences.  In  July,  1885,  this  conclusion,  was  first 
verified  in  the  person  of  a  young  Alsatian,  who  had  come 
to  Paris  to  be  treated,  and  in  October  of  the  same  year 
Pasteur  felt  authorized  to  make  an  official  report  to  the 
Institute  on  the  subject.  Since  that  date  patients  have 
not  been  lacking,  and  the  statistics  show  that  immunity 
has  been  brought  about  in  all  but  five  per  cent  of  the 
individuals  thus  treated. 

The  vaccine  for  hydrophobia  was  the  last  of  the  great 


Pasteur  and  the  Germ  Theory  243 

discoveries  made  by  Pasteur  himself.  Though  still  com- 
paratively young  in  years — he  had  but  just  passed  his 
sixty-second  birthday — his  constitution  had  been  weak- 
ened by  the  arduous  toil  he  had  forced  upon  it,  and  his 
nerves  shaken  by  the  anxieties  attendant  on  the  solution 
and  promulgation  of  his  results.  For  his  life  had  been 
one  of  almost  unceasing  warfare.  His  conclusions  had 
been  attacked  again  and  again,  each  in  turn  as  they  ap- 
peared, by  many  of  the  most  competent  scholars  of  the 
day.  And  this  last  battle  was  not  the  least  severe.  For 
the  solicitude  with  which  he  watched  over  each  human 
patient  destroyed  his  rest,  and  caused  disorders  which 
necessitated  a  journey  to  Italy  for  relief.  Besides,  in  his 
anxiety  to  relieve  all  victims  of  the  fearful  madness  he 
attempted  cures  which  were  hopeless  from  the  outset, 
failures  that  were  magnified  by  his  opponents  in  an 
endeavor  to  hide  his  triumphs.  Hugo's  dictum  that 
"Old  age  has  no  hold  on  geniuses  of  the  ideal"  leaves 
the  nerves  out  of  account.  Pasteur  returned  indeed  from 
Italy,  but  his  work  as  an  experimenter  was  ended.  Hence- 
forth he  must  content  himself  as  a  scientist  with  the 
wonderful  researches  in  pathology  and  bacteriology  which 
his  devoted  career  had  done  so  much  to  set  in  motion. 

Yet  he  had  his  reward.  Not  only  did  he  live  to  see  all 
criticism  confounded,  but  he  knew  the  joys  of  popularity 
and  hero-worship.  His  investigations  tended  in  such  a 
large  degree  towards  practical  and  beneficial  results  that 
all  classes  of  society  and  all  civilized  peoples  united  in  his 
praise.  Foreign  nations  vied  with  one  another  in  bestow- 
ing honors  and  dignities  on  him.  Nor  did  his  countrymen 
lag  behind.  In  1 88 1  he  had  been  elected  to  the  French 
Academy,  and  his  reception  into  that  body  in  1882  had 


244  Ten  Frenchmen 

been  signalized  quite  as  much  by  his  assertion  of  a  belief 
in  the  supernatural,  which  his  predecessor,  the  positivist 
Littre",  had  denied,  as  by  the  eloquent  eulogy  which  Renan 
had  pronounced  on  his  work.  A  decade  later,  in  1892, 
on  the  occasion  of  his  seventieth  birthday,  a  jubilee  cele- 
bration was  held  at  Paris,  which  was  attended  by  the 
President  of  the  Republic  and  high  state  officials,  the 
Institute  of  France  in  a  body,  deputations  from  the  scien- 
tific societies  and  universities  of  France  and  Europe,  and 
admirers  of  all  ranks,  who  in  the  name  of  their  constituent 
bodies  presented  to  the  distinguished  Frenchman  a  medal 
provided  by  international  subscriptions.  But  the  greatest 
testimonial  to  his  worth  had  already  taken  shape  at  Paris 
in  the  buildings  of  the  Pasteur  Institute. 

The  idea  of  this  famous  structure  seems  to  have  been 
suggested  by  the  overcrowding  of  Pasteur's  laboratory  by 
patients  attracted  by  the  knowledge  of  the  cure  for  hydro- 
phobia. In  1886  a  popular  subscription  to  furnish  more 
commodious  quarters  was  planned,  and  was  carried  out 
in  France  and  elsewhere  with  the  greatest  enthusiasm. 
Some  three  million  francs  were  thus  raised,  of  which 
some  two  million  were  used  in  construction.  On  Novem- 
ber 14,  1888,  the  Institute  was  formally  opened  in  the 
presence  of  a  distinguished  assembly.  It  is  here  that  the 
bacteriological  and  pathological  work  of  the  nation  now 
centers,  directed  by  eminent  specialists  who  have  received 
their  training  from  the  master  hand.  It  has  a  practical 
purpose  also  to  prevent  diseases  by  discovering  the  germs 
and  the  antidotes  for  them.  The  anti-toxin  for  diphtheria 
is  one  of  the  results  already  reached.  Hydrophobia 
patients  continue  to  be  treated  at  the  Institute,  vaccine 
matter  for  the  inoculation  of  cattle  and  hogs  is  prepared 


Pasteur  and  the  Germ  Theory  245 

there,  and  Pasteur's  studies  on  fermentations  are  carried 
on.  The  Institute  also  supports  a  journal,  which  con- 
tains reports  of  the  experiments  made  by  its  officers  and 
attendants. 

All  this  preparation  to  extend  the  scope  of  his  discover- 
ies arid  the  field  of  his  influence  Pasteur  lived  to  see.  His 
mind  continued  active  and  his  interest  in  laboratory  work 
unabated.  But  his  bodily  weakness  grew.  His  jubilee 
answer  to  the  addresses  of  congratulation  was  his  last 
public  utterance,  and  even  this  had  to  be  read  in  his  pres- 
ence by  his  son.  He  lingered  still  for  nearly  three  years. 
In  September,  1895,  paralysis  reappeared.  He  died  on 
the  28th  of  that  month  at  Villeneuve  1'Etang,  an  estate 
which  had  been  assigned  to  him  for  experimental  purposes 
by  the  French  government.  His  remains  were  given  a 
public  funeral  at  Notre  Dame  in  Paris.  They  have  found 
an  abiding  resting-place  at  the  end  of  a  corridor  in  the 
Institute  called  after  his  name. 

SELECTIONS 

From  the  Discours  de  Reception,  before  the  French 
Academy 

[Pasteur  affirms  his  belief  in  the  supernatural.] 

Science  begets  wonders  every  day.  You  have  wished  to  bear 
witness  once  again  to  the  deep  impression  which  society,  the  habits 
of  life,  literature,  receive  in  turn  from  so  many  accumulated  dis- 
coveries. If  you  deigned  to  cast  your  glance  on  me  the  nature 
of  my  work  doubtless  spoke  in  my  favor.  In  several  places  it  is 
concerned  with  the  manifestations  of  life. 

By  proving  that  up  to  the  present  time  life  has  never  been 
shown  to  man  as  a  product  of  the  forces  which  rule  matter,  I  have 
been  of  service  to  the  doctrine  of  spirituality,  much  neglected 


246  Ten  Frenchmen 

elsewhere,  but  assured  at  least  of  finding  in  your  ranks  a  glorious 
refuge. 

Perhaps  you  have  also  been  well  disposed  toward  me  for  hav- 
ing carried  into  this  arduous  question  of  the  origin  of  the  infinitely 
small  an  experimental  rigor  which  has  finally  tired  out  contradic- 
tion. Let  us,  however,  refer  the  merit  of  this  to  the  severe  appli- 
cation of  the  rules  of  the  method  which  the  great  experimenters 
Galileo,  Pascal,  Newton,  and  their  rivals  have  bequeathed  to  us 
for  two  centuries.  Admirable  and  sovereign  method  which  has, 
as  constant  guide  and  director,  observation  and  experience,  freed 
from  all  metaphysical  prejudice,  like  the  reason  which  sets  them 
at  work,  a  method  so  fruitful  that  superior  minds,  dazzled  by  the 
conquests  which  the  human  intelligence  owes  it,  have  thought  it 
could  solve  all  problems 

What  is  there  beyond  this  starry  vault?  Other  starry  heavens. 
Well,  and  beyond?  The  human  mind,  urged  by  an  invincible 
force,  will  never  cease  to  ask  itself:  What  is  there  beyond?  Sup- 
pose the  mind  stops  somewhere  in  time  or  space?  As  the  point 
where  it  stops  is  only  of  a  finite  greatness,  greater  only  than  all 
those  which  have  come  before  it,  the  mind  hardly  begins  to  con- 
template it  before  the  implacable  question  returns,  and  returns 
again,  without  the  mind  being  able  to  make  its  cry  of  curiosity 
cease.  It  is  of  no  use  to  answer:  Beyond  are  spaces,  times,  or 
limitless  greatnesses.  No  one  understands  these  words.  He 
who  proclaims  the  existence  of  the  infinite — and  no  one  can 
escape  from  it — accumulates  in  this  affirmation  more  of  the  super- 
natural than  exists  in  all  the  miracles  of  all  religions.  For  the 
notion  of  the  infinite  has  this  double  character,  it  forces  itself  upon 
our  mind  and  yet  is  incomprehensible.  When  this  notion  takes 
possession  of  the  understanding  we  have  only  to  bow  before  it. 
At  this  moment  of  keen  anguish  we  must  ask  our  reason  to  pardon 
us.  All  the  springs  of  intellectual  life  threaten  to  relax.  We  feel 
ourselves  on  the  point  of  being  seized  by  Pascal's  "sublime  mad- 
ness." This  notion,  which  is  positive  and  primordial,  positivism 
gratuitously  puts  aside,  together  with  all  its  consequences  on  the 
life  of  society. 


Pasteur  and  the  Germ  Theory  247 

Reply  of  Renan  to  Pasteur  on  the  Same  Occasion 

We  are  quite  incompetent,  sir,  to  praise  what  makes  your  true 
glory,  those  admirable  experiments  by  which  you  attain  even  the 
limits  of  life,  that  ingenious  way  of  questioning  nature  which  has 
availed  you  so  many  times  the  clearest  answers  from  her,  those 
precious  discoveries  which  are  every  day  transformed  into  con- 
quests of  primal  importance  for  humanity.  You  would  repudiate 
our  eulogies,  accustomed  as  you  are  to  value  the  judgments  of 
your  peers  alone,  and  in  the  scientific  debates  which  so  many  new 
ideas  excite,  you  would  not  wish  to  see  literary  appreciations 
come  to  mingle  with  the  suffrages  of  the  scientists  whom  the 
fraternity  of  glory  and  labor  brings  near  to  you.  Between  you 
and  your  learned  rivals  we  may  not  intervene.  But  outside  the 
substance  of  the  doctrine,  which  is  not  in  our  province,  there  is  a 
school,  sir,  where  our  acquaintance  with  the  human  mind  gives  us 
the  right  to  express  an  opinion.  There  is  something  which  we 
can  recognize  in  the  most  diverse  applications,  something  which 
belongs  in  the  same  degree  to  Galileo,  Pascal,  Michael  Angelo, 
Moliere,  something  which  causes  the  poet's  sublimity,  the  philos- 
opher's profundity,  the  fascination  of  the  orator,  the  divination 
of  the  scientist.  That  common  base  of  all  beautiful  and  true 
works,  that  divine  flame,  that  indefinable  spirit  which  inspires 
science,  literature,  and  art  we  have  found,  sir,  in  you.  It  is 
genius.  No  one  has  traversed  with  so  sure  a  step  the  circles  of 
elementary  nature.  Your  scientific  career  is  like  a  luminous  trail 
in  the  great  night  of  the  infinitely  small,  in  those  outermost 
abysses  of  being  where  life  is  born. 

How  fortunate  you  are,  sir,  to  thus  reach  through  your  art  to 
the  very  sources  of  life !  Yours  are  admirable  sciences !  Nothing 
is  lost  in  them.  You  will  have  set  a  valuable  stone  in  the  founda- 
tion of  the  eternal  edifice  of  truth.  Among  those  who  give  them- 
selves up  to  the  other  departments  of  mental  work,  who  can  have 
the  same  assurance?  M.  de  Maistre  somewhere  paints  modern 
science  "under  the  scanty  garb  of  the  North,  ....  its  arms 
laden  with  books  and  instruments,  pale  with  vigil  and  labor,  drag- 
ging itself,  stained  with  ink  and  panting,  along  the  road  of  truth, 
always  bending  towards  the  ground  its  forehead  furrowed  with 


248  Ten  Frenchmen 

algebra."  How  well  you  have  acted,  sir,  not  to  stop  short  at  this 
preoccupation  of  a  nobleman !  Nature  is  plebeian.  She  wishes 
us  to  work.  She  likes  callous  hands,  and  reveals  herself,  to 
anxious  brows  only. 

Your  austere  life,  wholly  consecrated  to  disinterested  research, 
is  the  best  answer  to  those  who  consider  our  century  cut  off,  as  it 
were,  from  the  great  gifts  of  the  soul.  Your  laborious  assiduity 
would  not  know  diversion  or  repose.  Receive  the  reward  for  this 
in  the  respect  that  surrounds  you,  in  that  sympathy,  the  manifesta- 
tions of  which  appear  to-day  in  such  great  numbers  about  you, 
and  above  all  in  the  joy  of  having  done  your  work  well,  of  having 
taken  your  place  in  the  first  rank  of  that  chosen  company,  which 
assures  itself  against  oblivion  by  a  very  simple  means,  by  creating 
works  which  last. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

Louis  Pasteur,  his  Life  and  Labors.  By  his  Son-in-law.  Trans- 
lated by  Lady  Claude  Hamilton,  with  Introduction  by  John  Tyndall. 

Pasteur.  Percy  Frankland  and  Mrs.  Percy  Frankland  (Cen- 
tury Science  Series) . 

The  Life  of  Pasteur.  R.  Vallery-Radot.  Translated  by  Mrs. 
R.  L.  Devonshire. 


FERDINAND  MARIE  DE  LESSEPS 


CHAPTER  XI 

DE   LESSEES   AND   INTER-OCEANIC    CANALS 

[FERDINAND  MARIE  DE  LESSEPS,  born  at  Versailles,  November 
19,  1805;  educated  at  Paris;  entered  public  service,  1823; 
vice-consul  at  Alexandria  and  Cairo,  1832-1837;  consul  at 
Malaga  and  Barcelona,  1839-1848;  minister  to  Spain,  1848; 
retired,  1849;  efforts  to  build  Suez  Canal,  1854-1859;  con- 
struction of  the  canal,  1859-1869;  freedom  of  the  city  of  Lon- 
don, 1870;  Panama  Canal  Company,  1879;  construction  of 
the  Panama  Canal,  1881;  elected  to  the  French  Academy, 
1884;  failure  of  the  Panama  Canal  Company,  1888;  died  at 
La  Chesnaie,  December  7,  1894.] 

Perhaps  the  most  striking  result  of  the  practical  appli- 
cations of  science  in  the  nineteenth  century  is  seen  in  the 
inventions  which  shorten  distance.  The  steam  engine, 
the  electric  telegraph,  the  telephone,  all  tend  to  a  common 
purpose,  to  put  men  living  in  different  localities  into  rapid 
communication  with  one  another.  In  the  twentieth  cen- 
tury this  movement  is  continuing  with  ever-increasing 
intensity.  Faster  trains,  faster  steamboats,  faster  street 
cars,  more  speedy  electrical  transmissions,  are  demanded 
and  supplied.  Humanity  would  seem  to  be  engaged  in 
one  absorbing  endeavor  to  annihilate  time  and  space. 
This  purpose  has  always  prevailed.  Succeeding  genera- 
tions throughout  time  have  been  coming  more  and  more 
into  closer  relations  among  themselves.  But  while  once 
such  quickening  of  speed  was  arithmetical,  it  now  might 
be  fairly  termed  geometrical.  And  one  of  the  most  evi- 

249 


250  Ten  Frenchmen 

dent  proofs  of  this  heightened  acceleration  is  offered  by 
the  building  of  isthmian  canals. 

The  idea  of  piercing  necks  of  land  which  separate 
navigable  bodies  of  water  is  not  a  new  one.  Indeed,  it  is 
quite  probable  that  it  presented  itself  quite  as  forcibly  to 
the  peoples  of  the  most  remote  civilizations  as  it  does  to 
our  own.  More  forcibly  perhaps,  for  the  perils  of  navi- 
gation were  much  greater  in  the  distant  past,  and  capes 
were  not  doubled  with  impunity.  So  the  Greeks  looked 
with  longing  eyes  at  the  narrow  ledge  of  rock  which  sepa- 
rated the  yEgean  Sea  from  the  Gulf  of  Corinth,  and  the 
conquerors  of  the  East  at  the  stretch  of  sand  between  the 
Red  Sea  and  the  Mediterranean.  This  latter  obstacle 
was  indeed  overcome.  Rameses  II  of  Egypt,  the  probable 
Pharaoh  of  the  Jewish  oppression,  is  credited  with  a 
waterway  dug  from  the  delta  of  the  Nile  to  the  Red  Sea. 
Centuries  later,  when  the  sands  of  the  desert  had  partially 
choked  its  channel,  it  is  said  that  Darius  I  of  Persia 
cleared  and  used  it.  Then,  in  the  Christian  era,  after 
the  death  of  Mohammed,  when  Moslem  invaders  attacked 
Egypt,  its  bed  was  once  again  restored.  But  after- 
wards one  of  the  rulers  of  the  land  wilfully  filled  it  up,  and 
it  remained  abandoned  for  more  than  a  thousand  years. 
The  eighteenth  century  saw  the  birth  of  a  short-lived 
project  to  utilize  it  again.  And  finally,  when  western 
enterprise  reached  the  East,  in  the  person  of  Napoleon 
Bonaparte,  a  French  engineer,  Lepere,  was  asked  to 
report  on  the  feasibility  of  reviving  the  old  canal.  He 
claimed  that  either  this  could  be  done  or  that  a  new 
passage  could  be  cut  from  sea  to  sea.  Nothing, 
however,  came  of  this  report.  Later  engineers  studied 
the  question  at  various  times  without  tangible  results, 


De  Lesseps  and  Inter-Oceanic  Canals     251 

until  at  last  it  came  to  the  attention  of  Ferdinand  de 
Lesseps. 

This  future  canal-builder  came  of  enterprising  blood. 
His  father  was  in  the  diplomatic  service  of  France,  and 
had  been  consul  in  Egypt.  His  uncle  was  a  sailor,  had 
visited  the  northern  coast  of  Asia,  and  returned  to 
France  through  Siberia.  His  mother  was  of  Spanish 
origin,  a  great-aunt  of  the  future  Empress  Eugenie. 
Ferdinand  himself  was  born  at  Versailles  in  1805, 
followed  as  a  child  his  father  to  an  Italian  consulate 
(at  Leghorn),  but  returned  to  study  at  the  College  of 
Henry  IV,  in  Paris.  At  the  age  of  eighteen  he  was 
ready  to  begin  life,  and  entered  government  employ  in  the 
commissary  department  of  the  army.  Two  years  later, 
in  1825,  he  was  attached  to  the  French  consulate  at  Lis- 
bon, where  his  uncle  was  in  charge.  In  1828  he  was 
again  at  Paris,  in  the  department  of  foreign  affairs.  In 
1829  he  was  made  assistant  to  the  vice-consul  at  Tunis, 
under  his  father,  who  was  consul  general.  In  1832  he 
was  transferred  to  Alexandria  as  vice-consul,  and  for  the 
next  five  years  occupied  this  post  or  a  similar  one  at  .Cairo, 
distinguishing  himself  for  his  energy  and  alertness,  and 
the  excellent  administration  of  his  office  during  a  severe 
pestilence.  During  this  residence  he  had  become  ac- 
quainted with  the  views  of  Napoleon's  engineer,  Lepere, 
and  had  contracted  a  firm  friendship  with  the  young 
prince,  Said  Pasha,  whose  father  had  profited  by  the  good 
offices  of  the  elder  De  Lesseps  when  he  was  consul  at 
Cairo  in  1803. 

Returning  to  France  at  the  end  of  1837,  De  Lesseps 
was  appointed  consul  at  Rotterdam,  Malaga,  and  Barce- 
lona, in  succession.  At  the  last  named  place  he  gave  new 


252  Ten  Frenchmen 

proofs  of  his  activity  and  courage  in  protecting  during  a 
civil  war  all  who  put  themselves  in  his  care.  For  this 
praiseworthy  conduct  he  was  publicly  thanked  by  the  city 
of  Barcelona,  his  own  and  foreign  governments,  who  con- 
ferred various  orders  on  him  as  tokens  of  their  regard. 
In  1848,  in  the  first  months  of  that  Republic  which  had 
displaced  Louis  Philippe,  De  Lesseps  became  minister  to 
Spain.  One  of  his  official  acts  in  this  new  post  was  to 
intercede  for  some  friends  of  Eugenie  de  Montijo  (later 
Empress  Eugenie),  who  had  been  sentenced  to  death  for 
mutiny.  Recalled  at  the  end  of  the  year,  he  was  intrusted 
with  a  mission  to  the  Roman  republic,  just  established. 
Louis  Napoleon,  then  President  of  France,  expected 
duplicity  on  the  part  of  his  agent.  But  De  Lesseps  pro- 
ceeded according  to  the  letter  of  his  instructions,  and 
tried  to  induce  the  Italian  republicans  to  consent  to  the 
presence  of  the  French  troops  which  had  been  sent  to  pro- 
tect the  person  of  the  pope.  His  acts,  however,  were 
neutralized  by  the  French  general  in  command,  who  was 
following  secret  instructions  from  Louis  Napoleon,  and 
De  Lesseps  asked  to  be  relieved  of  his  mission.  On  his 
arrival  at  Paris  his  management  was  made  the  subject  of 
an  official  inquiry,  which  resulted  in  his  condemnation. 
He  retired  at  once  from  the  service  of  the  state  and 
began  to  occupy  his  leisure  with  studies  on  agriculture. 
It  was  during  this  period  of  retirement  that  his  plan  of 
piercing  the  Isthmus  of  Suez  was  matured. 

The  general  trend  of  De  Lesseps 's  official  career — so 
suddenly  terminated — shows  a  character  which  was  unusu- 
ally open,  straightforward,  and  self-sacrificing.  Several 
times  during  his  consular  residences,  particularly  in  Egypt 
and  Spain,  he  had  exposed  his  health  and  reputation  to 


De  Lesseps  and  Inter-Oceanic  Canals     253 

rescue  others  from  disease  or  violence.  He  was  a  man 
who  seems  to  have  always  acted  on  the  principle  of  ser- 
vice to  his  fellows,  whatever  the  consequences  to  himself, 
and  as  we  have  seen  in  the  instance  of  the  double  dealing 
of  the  French  government  with  the  people  of  Rome,  he 
could  not  be  brought  to  deception,  even  though  his 
own  future  were  at  stake.  He  began  his  real  life  as  a 
builder  of  canals  with  clean  hands  and  an  honest  purpose. 
The  five  years  (1849-1854)  which  he  passed  on  his 
farm  in  the  old  province  of  Berry  were  employed  in  ac- 
quiring information  regarding  commerce  and  transporta- 
tion. Excited  by  Lepere's  report,  instigated  by  other 
developments,  as  Fourier's  writings,  the  engineers' 
experiments,  and  a  project  advocated  in  the  late  forties 
by  the  followers  of  Saint  Simon,  the  socialist,  he  became 
fully  possessed  of  the  idea  that  a  canal  should  be  cut 
through  the  Isthmus  of  Suez;  that  it  should  be  a  maritime 
canal,  from  sea  to  sea,  and  that  it  should  be  level,  without 
locks.  These  points  are  important  because  their  justifica- 
tion when  put  into  execution  at  Suez  involved  the  later 
failure  at  Panama.  Furthermore,  at  the  rate  at  which 
traffic  was  increasing  the  canal  would  prove  a  financial 
success  almost  at  the  start.  These  views  he  submitted 
to  the  Sultan  of  Turkey  in  1852,  who  returned  them  after 
a  courteous  examination.  But  in  1854  the  way  was 
opened.  The  Viceroy  of  Egypt  died,  and  Said  Pasha, 
De  Lesseps's  young  friend  of  the  thirties,  ruled  in  his 
stead.  In  answer  to  a  letter  of  congratulation  the  new 
Viceroy  invited  De  Lesseps  to  visit  him.  The  visit  was 
paid.  Royally  welcomed,  the  visitor  did  not  delay  in  lay- 
ing his  plan  of  a  canal  before  the  new  sovereign.  The 
latter  called  his  generals  into  consultation,  and  as  they 


254  Ten  Frenchmen 

were  already  favorably  disposed  towards  the  foreigner 
because  of  his  feats  at  horsemanship — so  De  Lesseps 
himself  says — they  agreed  in  advising  the  concession  to 
dig  the  canal.  It  was  officially  granted  on  November  30, 
1854. 

It  was  now  in  order  to  survey  the  route  and  raise 
money  for  the  undertaking.  De  Lesseps  and  his  friends 
provided  for  the  preliminary  work,  and  when  this  fund 
was  exhausted  the  Egyptian  government  came  to  the 
rescue.  But  the  sanction  of  Turkey,  Egypt's  over-lord, 
was  necessary,  and  owing  to  the  opposition  of  England, 
then  all-powerful  at  Stamboul,  some  time  elapsed  before 
a  tacit  permission  could  be  secured.  De  Lesseps  was 
everywhere,  at  Constantinople,  Paris,  London,  where  he 
argued  long  and  eloquently  with  Lord  Palmerston,  ap- 
pealed to  the  British  public,  and  formed  an  international 
commission  to  look  into  the  matter,  returned  to  France, 
to  England  again,  saw  the  Queen  and  Prince  Albert,  made 
addresses,  wrote  letters,  interviewed  statesmen  and  rulers 
until  all  Europe  but  Great  Britain  was  on  his  side.  Yet 
this  attitude  of  the  insular  power  now  began  to  work  in 
his  favor.  The  enterprise  came  to  be  regarded  in  France 
as  a  patriotic  one.  Subscriptions  to  the  company  flowed 
in.  Nearly  twenty  million  dollars  were  raised  there  and 
elsewhere  on  the  Continent,  while  the  Khedive  of  Egypt 
advanced  one-half  that  sum,  and  a  like  amount  was  placed 
in  the  other  markets  of  Europe  and  in  the  United  States, 
which  had  supported  the  project  from  its  inception.  In 
all,  four  hundred  thousand  shares  of  stock  were  issued  at 
one  hundred  dollars  a  share,  including  the  original  shares 
of  the 'preliminary  survey.  Actual  work  was  begun  with- 
out receiving  the  Sultan's  permission,  which  came  several 


De  Lesseps  and  Inter-Oceanic  Canals     255 

months  later,  and  on  April  25,  1859,  De  Lesseps  himself, 
in  the  presence  of  engineers  and  workmen,  gave  the  first 
blow  with  the  pick  and  turned  the  first  shovelful  of  earth 
on  the  Mediterranean  side  of  the  canal,  at  a  spot  now  called 
after  the  Viceroy,  Port  Said. 

Thousands  of  laborers  were  soon  swarming  along  the 
route.  In  1862  a  canal  was  completed,  which  brought 
Nile  water  to  the  middle  of  the  isthmus,  and  in  November 
of  that  year  the  Mediterranean  was  allowed  to  flow  along 
the  newly  dug  bed  to  Lake  Timsah.  Dredging  machines 
had  been  invented  for  the  undertaking.  All  was  going 
well,  when  the  friendly  Khedive  died,  in  January,  1863. 
Under  his  successor,  Ismail  Pasha,  also  well  disposed,  it 
was  argued  by  Turkey  that  the  work  was  being  done  by 
forced  labor,  contrary  to  the  law  of  the  land,  and  a 
demand  was  made  for  this  compulsion  to  cease,  and  a 
concession  of  the  land  bordering  the  canal  to  be  made  by 
the  company.  The  whole  matter  was  finally  submitted 
to  Napoleon  III  to  arbitrate.  In  1864  a  decision  was 
reached  which  compromised  all  the  points  involved,  and 
the  permission  for  the  construction  of  the  waterway  was 
embodied  in  a  firman  of  the  Sultan,  issued  March  19, 
1866.  But  from  1864  on  the  work  had  been  vigorously 
pushed,  and  on  November  17,  1869,  in  the  presence  of 
many  European  sovereigns  and  diplomats  and  a  large 
concourse  of  visitors  from  all  parts  of  the  world,  the  im- 
perial yacht  of  France  bearing  the  Empress  Eugenie,  long 
bound  to  De  Lesseps  by  ties  of  gratitude  for  his  media- 
tion while  minister  to  Spain,  steamed  into  the  cut  at  Port 
Said,  and  escorted  by  other  royal  yachts  and  men  of  war, 
proceeded  by  slow  stages  to  Suez. 

De  Lesseps 's  success,  his  triumph  over  so  much  politi- 


256  Ten  Frenchmen 

cal  opposition — for  the  obstacles  raised  by  nature  were 
few — made  him  the  hero  of  the  day.  It  also  brought 
him  many  honors  and  decorations,  including  one  even  from 
England.  A  visit  paid  to  that  country  in  1870  was 
turned  into  a  popular  ovation,  and  on  July  30  he  was 
awarded  the  unsuual  distinction  of  the  freedom  of  the 
city  of  London.  But  in  one  respect  his  plans  had  lacked 
exactness,  the  expense.  The  canal  had  cost  fifteen  million 
dollars  more  than  the  estimates — a  sum  which  had  been 
raised  by  issuing  bonds.  The  receipts  for  the  first  few 
years  of  operation  proved  unequal  to  meeting  the  interest 
thus  pledged,  and  in  1874  the  sum  in  arrears  was  added 
to  the  capital  stock.  In  November,  1875,  the  British 
government  bought  the  Khedive's  shares  for  twenty  mil- 
lion dollars,  which,  however,  represented  but  a  fraction 
of  the  eighty  millions  and  over  the  canal  is  supposed  to 
have  cost  Egypt.  Political  susceptibilities  were  aroused 
by  this  transaction,  in  Russia  as  well  as  in  France.  But 
nothing  of  a  serious  nature  followed. 

In  1882,  on  the  occasion  of  Arabi's  rebellion,  England 
felt  called  upon  to  insure  navigation  through  the  canal  for 
herself,  bombarded  Alexandria,  and  occupied  Egypt. 
France  unfortunately  declined  to  share  in  the  responsibili- 
ties which  the  pacification  of  the  country  would  incur,  and 
taking  advantage  of  the  poor  management  of  the  company, 
a  meeting  of  English  merchants  was  held  in  May,  1883, 
to  consider  the  construction  of  another  waterway  through 
Egypt.  But  De  Lesseps  was  enabled  to  come  to  an 
understanding  with  the  English  government,  and  in  1884 
improvements  were  begun  on  the  bed  of  the  canal  which 
resulted  in  widening  and  deepening  it,  and  the  reduction 
of  the  time  of  transit  to  less  than  twenty  hours.  In 


De  Lesseps  and  Inter-Oceanic  Canals    257 

December,  1 888,  after  six  years  of  negotiations,  the  neu- 
trality of  the  canal  and  its  outlets  was  guaranteed  by  the 
powers  of  Europe.  Since  1880  traffic  has  increased  to 
such  an  extent  that  large  dividends  have  been  paid,  and 
the  market  value  of  the  stock  has  risen  to  eight  times  its 
face  value. 

Meanwhile  De  Lesseps 's  activity  had  not  been  restricted 
to  his  duties  of  the  presidency  of  the  Suez  Canal  Com- 
pany. In  1873  ne  was  working  upon  the  project  of  a 
railroad  through  Central  Asia,  which  was  submitted  to 
Russia,  but  declined.  He  also  interested  himself  in  the 
scheme  of  turning  part  of  the  Desert  of  Sahara  into  an 
inland  sea,  which  later  surveys  have  shown  impracticable, 
and  gave  his  influence  to  the  opening  up  of  the  Congo 
under  the  leadership  of  the  King  of  Belgium.  But 
another  idea  was  nearer  to  his  heart.  He  had  joined  the 
Mediterranean  to  the  Red  Sea  and  opened  a  pathway 
between  West  and  East.  He  aspired  to  connect  the 
Atlantic  with  the  Pacific,  and  complete  his  cutting  of  the 
globe  in  half. 

The  idea  of  piercing  the  Isthmus  of  Panama  had 
haunted  mariners  and  idealists  ever  since  the  voyages  of 
Balboa  in  discovery  of  the  Pacific  Ocean.  Routes  by 
Darien,  Nicaragua,  and  Tehuantepec  were  planned  on 
paper  time  and  again  during  the  sixteenth  and  seven- 
teenth centuries.  In  the  nineteenth  the  notion  was  vigor- 
ously revived.  A  canal  through  Nicaragua  was  seriously 
considered  in  1850,  so  much  so  that  when  Said  Pasha 
announced  the  Suez  concession  to  the  foreign  representa- 
tives at  Cairo,  on  his  accession  to  power  in  1854,  he  said 
to  the  American  consul:  "We  are  going  to  start  an  oppo- 
sition to  the  Isthmus  of  Panama,  and  we  shall  be  done 


258  Ten  Frenchmen 

before  you."  He  was  right.  Work  had  not  been  even 
begun  at  Panama  when  Suez  was  already  an  accomplished 
fact.  In  1870  a  report  had  been  presented  to  the  Ameri- 
can government  favoring  a  canal  with  locks  at  Panama. 
In  1875  a°d  1876  successive  international  congresses  had 
sanctioned  engineering  expeditions  to  Central  America, 
and  on  May  15,  1879,  at  a  new  session  of  the  congress, 
presided  over  by  De  Lesseps,  and  attended  by  many 
Americans  from  the  north  and  south,  the  whole  matter 
was  taken  up  afresh,  the  different  routes  discussed  at 
length,  and  the  report  of  the  French  engineer,  Bonaparte 
Wyse,  which  outlined  a  canal  at  Panama,  was  adopted. 
Wyse's  scheme  utilized  the  Chagres  River,  tunneled  the 
Cordilleras,  and  reached  the  Pacific  by  the  valley  of  the 
Rio  Grande.  This  route  had  been  favored  by  De  Lesseps 
because  it  was  shorter,  because  the  Nicaragua  route  was 
exposed  to  earthquakes,  and  also  because  the  latter  route 
required  locks,  which  in  the  opinion  of  De  Lesseps  the 
Panama  did  not.  In  other  words,  without  personal  in- 
spection, guided  simply  by  logic,  he  decided  that  what 
had  been  done  at  Suez  could  be  done  elsewhere,  whatever 
the  physical  differences,  and  his  prestige  decided  the  votes 
of  the  congress. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  at  the  time  of  this  deci- 
sion "The  Great  Frenchman,"  as  he  was  now  dubbed 
by  Gambetta,  had  more  than  passed  his  threescore  and 
ten.  His  physical  strength,  developed  so  well  by  the 
athletic  pursuits  of  his  early  years,  and  preserved  by  his 
open-air  life,  had  fortified  that  self-confidence  which  the 
opening  of  Suez  in  the  face  of  ill-boding  prophecies  and 
opposition  had  abundantly  justified.  He  had  always  been 
right.  He  could  not  conceive  at  the  age  of  seventy-three 


De  Lesseps  and  Inter-Oceanic  Canals     259 

that  he  could  err.  A  glamour  surrounded  him.  He  was 
looked  upon  very  much  as  a  wizard,  capable  of  overcom- 
ing nature.  No  doubt  the  touch  of  his  wand  would  sub- 
due the  Chagres  and  open  the  rocks  of  the  Cordilleras. 
And  so  the  congress,  charmed  by  him,  adopted  his  views. 
A  Universal  Inter-Oceanic  Canal  Company  was  incorpo- 
rated on  October  20,  1879,  which  took  over  concessions 
granted  by  the  United  States  of  Colombia  to  Wyse.  No 
time  was  lost.  Subscriptions  to  stock  were  immediately 
opened.  But  the  public  was  as  yet  uninformed  about  the 
project,  and  failed  to  respond. 

De  Lesseps  started  for  the  American  isthmus.  His 
young  daughter  formally  gave  the  first  blow  on  the  exca- 
vation on  January  i,  1880.  After  a  hasty  inspection  he 
estimated  that  the  cost  would  be  some  one  hundred  and 
seventy  million  dollars,  and  hurried  back  to  France  by  the 
way  of  the  United  States,  where  he  was  given  the  oppor- 
tunity to  appeal  to  the  good  will  of  Americans,  and  their 
financial  assistance  at  dinners  held  in  his  honor.  Reach- 
ing home  after  this  somewhat  spectacular  journey  he 
again  called  on  the  savings  of  France  to  the  extent  of  one 
hundred  million  dollars.  His  name  was  one  to  conjure 
by.  The  profits  from  Suez  were  now  becoming  evident. 
The  loan  was  covered  several  times,  and  on  February  I, 
1 88 1,  work  was  actually  begun  on  the  isthmus. 

The  difficulties  of  the  enterprise  soon  became  manifest. 
The  estimates  proved  far  below  the  actual  expenses,  and 
in  September,  1882,  an  issue  of  bonds  was  made  which 
realized  some  twenty-two  million  dollars.  The  same 
month  a  severe  earthquake  threw  doubts  on  the  availabil- 
ity of  this  route  too,  and  later  in  the  season  the  contract- 
ors canceled  their  contract.  New  contracts  were  let,  a 


260  Ten  Frenchmen 

new  issue  of  bonds  followed,  in  1883,  and  work  was 
vigorously  pushed.  Still  the  expenses  grew.  Not  only 
was  the  nature  of  the  soil  and  the  climate  of  the  locality 
hostile  to  invasion,  but  moderation  was  lacking  in  the 
supply  of  incidentals  and  accessories,  such  as  luxurious 
quarters  for  the  engineers,  staffs  of  useless  officials,  and 
even  private  grounds  constructed  out  of  the  company's 
treasury.  In  1885  another  loan  was  made.  In  1886  the 
French  government  sent  a  special  agent  to  the  isthmus  to 
inspect  the  condition  of  affairs.  His  report  was  so 
unfavorable,  particularly  in  its  condemnation  of  the  waste 
everywhere  visible,  that  the  Assembly  refused  its  permis- 
sion to  raise  more  money  by  a  lottery  scheme. 

In  November,  1887,  De  Lesseps  at  last  renounced  the 
idea  of  a  canal  at  tide  level,  and  contracted  with  the  cele- 
brated engineer,  Eiffel,  for  the  construction  of  several 
locks.  Money,  however,  was  not  forthcoming,  and  dis- 
aster seemed  inevitable.  To  avert  it  a  regular  campaign 
was  planned  at  home.  Newspapers  were  heavily  subsi- 
dized or  menaced — for  the  number  of  stock  and  bond 
holders  in  France  was  very  large — deputies  were  influ- 
enced by  every  means  that  could  be  devised,  and  under 
this  pressure  the  Assembly,  in  1888,  passed  a  bill  which 
authorized  the  company  to  place  a  lottery  loan.  But  the 
loan,  when  issued,  was  not  covered,  and  in  December, 

1888,  the  company  suspended  payments.     In  February, 

1889,  a  receiver  was  appointed  to  take  charge  of   its 
affairs.     Work  now  ceased.     Distress  ensued  among  the 
workmen  on  the   isthmus,   and  accusations  against  the 
management    began   to   be   heard   in    France.     Finally, 
after  many  months  of  debate  and  petitioning,  the  As- 
sembly took  up  the  matter  in  January,  1892.     In  Sep- 


De  Lesseps  and  Inter-Oceanic  Canals    261 

tember  of  that  year  some  of  the  deputies  who  had  voted  for 
the  lottery  loan  of  1888  were  alleged  to  have  been  bribed. 
In  November  De  Lesseps  and  his  fellow  directors  were 
cited  to  appear  before  the  civil  authorities  for  malversa- 
tion, and  in  February,  1893,  he  was  judged  guilty  of  the 
charge. 

The  condemnation  struck  a  defenseless  head.  The 
aged  engineer  had  never  rallied  from  the  shock  of  the 
company's  failure,  and  early  in  1892  had  fallen  into  a 
state  of  numb  senility,  of  somnolence,  from  which  it  was 
almost  impossible  to  arouse  him.  He  had  been  taken 
from  Paris  to  his  country-seat  of  La  Chesnaie,  and  was 
not  present  at  the  court  either  during  the  trial  or  on  the 
day  of  sentence.  Nor  is  it  believed  that  he  knew  any- 
thing about  the  criminal  proceedings  which  were  carried 
on  against  him.  His  son  Charles  exposed  himself  on  all 
occasions  to  save  his  father,  and  perhaps  assumed  respon- 
sibilities which  should  have  been  borne  by  the  latter.  The 
whole  family  keenly  felt  the  disgrace  of  its  position,  but 
did  not  relax  in  its  devotion  to  its  head.  Another  year 
and  more  passed.  The  Great  Frenchman's  vigorous 
frame  yielded  slowly  to  the  attacks  of  time,  and  it  was 
only  on  December  7,  1894,  at  the  age  of  nearly  fourscore 
years  and  ten,  that  he  breathed  his  last,  far  away  from  the 
scenes  of  his  triumphs  and  defeat. 

But  the  last  decade  of  his  life  had  not  been  one  of  con- 
stant disappointment.  Though  it  must  have  been  plain  as 
early  as  1882  that  the  Isthmus  of  Panama  was  not  to  be 
conquered  as  easily  as  Suez,  yet  De  Lesseps 's  optimism 
was  such,  and  his  physical  condition  so  sound,  that  he 
apparently  felt  few  misgivings.  The  public  still  adored 
him.  In  1884  the  popular  voice  had  voted  him  into  the 


262  Ten  Frenchmen 

French  Academy,  in  spite  of  his  entire  lack  of  literary 
work,  and  his  reception  in  1885  had  been  an  event, 
marked  by  the  eloquence  of  Renan,  who  officially  wel- 
comed him.  In  1887  the  French  government  had  even 
intrusted  him  with  a  secret  mission  to  Berlin.  Always 
his  figure  had  been  one  of  the  prominent  ones  at  Paris. 
At  the  age  of  eighty  and  more  it  was  one  of  the  morning 
sights,  at  the  Place  de  la  Concorde,  to  see  De  Lesseps  on 
horseback  leading  a  bevy  of  his  children,  mounted  on 
ponies  and  fillies  of  different  sizes,  on  a  canter  towards 
the  Bois  de  Boulogne.  And  when  the  evil  days  came, 
though  technically  a  criminal,  few  believed  he  had  con- 
sciously done  wrong.  He  was  sanguine,  absolutely  self- 
confident,  impatient  of  opposition.  It  is  quite  certain 
also  that  he  was  averse  to  the  consideration  of  details. 
His  vague  estimates  and  hurried  inspection  show  this. 
And  then  he  was  old,  and  had  a  right  to  lean  on  younger 
shoulders.  But  he  risked  his  fortune  as  well  as  the  sav- 
ings of  his  compatriots.  All  he  possessed  seems  to  have 
gone  into  the  enterprise.  Panama  swallowed  Suez,  and 
it  was  the  latter  company  which  came  to  the  aid  of  his 
impoverished  family. 

Now  it  is  apparent  that  his  eclipse  was  only  temporary. 
His  failure  is  dead.  It  may  be  even  changed  to  victory 
by  the  completion  of  the  undertaking  which  caused  it. 
His  success  lives.  His  statue  cast  in  bronze  and  erected 
in  1899  near  Port  Said  perpetuates  the  good  he  accom- 
plished in  the  Old  World.  And  it  may  be  that  in  the 
New  those  prophetic  words  will  some  day  come  true 
which  were  uttered  in  1896,  at  the  reception  of  his  suc- 
cessor into  the  French  Academy:  "Yes,  the  interrupted 
work  will  be  begun  again  and  finished.  By  whom  and  for 


De  Lesseps  and  Inter-Oceanic  Canals    263 

whom?  Political  interests  and  passions  will  perhaps 
decide.  But  the  day  when  the  first  flags  shall  cross  the 
space  which  separates  the  two  oceans — forgetting  the 
failings  of  age  and  the  slights  of  fortune,  misfortunes, 
and  faults,  the  entire  world  will  remember  that  the  man 
who  had  taken  up  the  idea  of  Leibnitz  and  Goethe,  in 
order  to  accomplish  it  for  the  profit  of  mankind,  was  he 
whom  a  popularity  that  was  universal  had  named  'The 
Great  Frenchman.'  " 


SELECTIONS 

From  the  Speech  of  Anatole  France  on  his  Reception  into 

the  French  Academy  as  the  Successor  of  De  Lesseps. 

His  Character 

I  must  finish  my  purpose  and  follow  M.  Ferdinand  de  Lesseps 
in  the  last  years  of  his  life.  When  he  was  near  to  death  he  was 
smitten  by  a  misfortune  which  had  the  extent  of  a  public  misfor- 
tune. The  disaster  was  great,  like  the  dream  which  had  preceded 
it.  The  enterprise  of  the  inter-oceanic  canal  crumbled  to  dust; 
its  ruins  still  breathe  forth  groans.  Here  is  neither  the  place  nor 
the  time  to  consider  them.  You  do  not  expect  me  to  search  into 
their  causes.  Scarcely  am  I  allowed  to  point  out  the  most  general 
among  them,  and  to  say  that  in  France  the  slow,  concealed,  some- 
times obscure,  but  constant  and  sovereign,  will  which  sustained 
the  work  of  Suez  was  no  longer  there  to  withstand  the  violent 
blows  of  passion,  instinct,  and  chance  in  order  to  defend  a  new 
enterprise,  more  adventurous  than  the  first,  against  itself,  and  give 
it  moderation;  and  that  in  the  weak,  diffuse,  and  changing  man- 
agement of  public  affairs  nothing  was  left  which  was  henceforth 
capable  of  restraining  the  covetousness  of  a  crowd  of  financiers, 
adventurers,  and  political  robbers,  nor  of  stopping  that  instinctive 
panic  of  the  mob  which  upsets  everything  in  a  moment.  Every- 
thing gave  way.  Conquered  by  age,  overwhelmed  by  the  blow 
which  struck  him,  but  retaining  (I  think  I  know  this  is  so)  all  his 


264  Ten  Frenchmen 

clearness  of  mind,  M.  de  Lesseps  knew  the  extent  of  his  misfor- 
tune. In  the  hour  which  was  tragic  for  his  glory  and  his  name, 
alone  among  his  own  in  that  rustic  dwelling  of  La  Chesnaie,  where 
almost  half  a  century  before  he  had  traced  on  a  chart  the  little  line 
which  was  to  unite  two  worlds,  feeble  now,  inert,  afflicted,  pulling 
up  over  his  shivering  knees  his  traveling  rug,  the  great  traveler 
was  dying  in  silence.  But  one  day  on  his  dry  cheeks  they  saw 
tears  flowing. 

Ferdinand  de  Lesseps  finished  dying  December  7,  1894.  I 
have  been  obliged  to  show  him  to  you  still  laden  with  the  faults 
which  time  will  carry  away.  Such  a  man  as  I  have  made  him 
appear  to  you,  such  as  he  was,  imprudent,  rash,  too  trustful  in 
himself  and  his  long  good  fortune,  but  generous,  great,  full  of 
goodness,  force,  and  courage,  sympathizing  with  the  human  race, 
capable  above  all  men  of  acting  and  inciting  action,  he  worked  on 
vast  and  peaceful  tasks  all  his  life,  and  won  his  place  among  the 
elite  of  useful  men  by  hard  toil.  What  he  did  is  immense  and 
good.  He  opened  an  outlet  for  the  West,  which  was  compressed 
in  too  tight  limits.  He  blazed  new  ways  for  energy,  he  gave  to  the 
purposes  of  men  causes  for  acting  usefully  in  concord  and  har- 
mony. Such  a  man  has  but  one  judge,  the  universe.  He  served 
the  interests  of  humanity.  Grateful  humanity  will  keep  for  him 
the  names  of  benefactor  and  friend.  And  his  image,  erected  at 
Suez  on  the  wall  of  the  canal,  will  be  saluted  through  the  ages  by 
the  flags  of  the  nations. 


De  Lesseps 's  Speech  at  the  New  York  Dinner  of  March  I, 
1880,  as  Reported  in  The  Tribune 

I  should  weaken  the  force  of  the  eloquent  words  which  your 
president  has  so  kindly  spoken  in  my  favor,  if  I  added  a  word  to 
his  admirable  discourse.  He  has  spoken  like  a  true  American, 
and  has  touched  upon  my  project  from  a  truly  American  point  of 
view.  I  do  not  desire  to  enter  upon  a  discussion  of  the  questions 
he  so  gracefully  and  yet  so  forcibly  touched  upon,  but  as  a  French- 
man, I  wish  to  add  just  one  word.  In  our  negotiations  with  refer- 
ence to  the  opening  of  the  new  canal  of  Panama,  for  which  I  have 
the  concession  of  the  Government  of  Colombia,  I  formally  declared 


De  Lesseps  and  Inter-Oceanic  Canals     265 

that  I  had  no  political  interest  in  the  matter,  and  did  not  seek  to 
further  the  particular  interest  of  my  own  country.  I  frankly  state 
this  now,  and  I  will  say  to  the  President  of  the  United  States, 
when  I  meet  him  in  Washington  on  Thursday,  that  if  ever  any 
difficulty  arises  in  regard  to  the  control  of  this  canal,  I  myself  will 
carefully  watch  over  the  interests  of  the  United  States. 

The  United  States  ought  to  take  a  prominent  part  in  this  mat- 
ter, and  I  sincerely  trust  they  will.  Science  has  pronounced  this 
canal  possible,  and  I  am  the  servant  of  science.  I  will  carry  out 
this  work,  and  make  America  Queen  of  the  Seas. 

I  present  my  thanks  to  this  assembly  for  its  very  gracious 
reception1,  and  in  the  recollections  of  my  visit  to  this  great  Repub- 
lic this  gathering  will  be  one  of  the  most  prominent  and  pleasant 
features.  I  leave  this  city  shortly  and  shall  visit  in  turn  Wash- 
ington, Philadelphia,  Boston,  Chicago,  and  San  Francisco,  to  lay 
before  your  people  the  merits  of  my  project.  I  shall  state  frankly 
in  those  cities  what  I  have  stated  here,  and  if  it  is  as  courteously 
received  as  in  New  York,  the  success  of  my  undertaking  will  be 
assured.  It  is  to  the  best  interests  of  America  and  to  her  future 
prosperity  that  this  enterprise  will  chiefly  tend,  and  she  ought,  and 
I  trust  will,  make  her  contributions  toward  the  necessary  outlay 
adequate  to  the  immense  advantages  which  are  bound  to  accrue 
to  her  from  its  success.  Gentlemen,  I  thank  you. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

Recollections  of  Forty  Years.  Ferdinand  de  Lesseps.  Trans- 
lated by  C.  B.  Pitman. 

The  Life  and  Enterprises  oj  Ferdinand  de  Lesseps.  G.  Barnett 
Smith. 

See  also  Atlantic  Monthly,  Vol.  LXXVI,  pp.  285  ff.;  The 
Chautauqiian,  Vol.  XVI,  pp.  58  ff. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


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